BIH?  | 


Potter 


of  Texaj 


A  NOVEL 


BY 


ARCHIBALD  CLAVERING  GUNTER 


AUTHOR    OF 


I44 Mr.    Barnes  of  iNew  Yorkr'>   ^That  Frenchman! 
Princess  of  Pans,"  "The  King's  Stockbroker,"  et 


NEW   YORK 

THE  HOfl  ;  PUBLISHING  COHPANY 

3  EAST  FOURTP:ENTH  STREET 


,|  !  MM  I  I  II  I  I  Ml  I  I  I  I  I  I  I  I  I  I  I  I  II  Ml!  Ml  III  MM  I  I  I  I  I  lit  i  Ml  I  I  M  i  I  I  I  I  I ,  MM  I  I  I  II  I  I  I  I  I  I 
•/ '-  v-'.-y^v/.  VA  v.  yAyA'W.^/A- YA  v/-  -/A  yx  VA  v/;  v/.  %.  v/.  •//.  •//.  y/.  yAy/:,  v>.  VA  VA  •//.  •//-.  •  '  v/.  VAV/.  v/.  VA  v/.'yA^v/.y, 

•  ^r • : ;.'^.  , ; « s -M; •: i :  li^ -:-. •-. : 'M ••,-•.  m  w^W: 

:,   •  f.  V/.  V .'.  V  , ..  ..  \  V/._V/.^7i  V/.  VA  VA  VA  VA  VA  VA  V  A  VA  VA  VA  VA  VA  V/.  VA_V  A  VA  VA  VA  VA  VA  '//.  VA  VA  VA  V/»  V  A  ",  .  VA  VA  V/ 

t  M  !  I  M  M!  M  M  I  M  i  II  I  I  I  M  M  M  II  I  II  II  I  II  !  1  M  I  i  I  I  I  Ml  I  M  M  I  M  !  MM  I  I  I  Tl  ,M  LJJ'J?!  !  ! 


MR.  POTTER  OF  TEXAS 


Kobel 


ARCHIBALD  CLAVERING  GUNTER 

Zl 

AUTHOR  OF 

"MK.  BARNES  0*  NEW  YORK* 


NEW  YORK 
THE   HOME   PUBLISHING   COMPANY 

7  EAST  FOURTEENTH  STREET 


JOHN  HURTIN  KINO. 


COPYRIGHT,  1888, 
i 7  A.  C.  GUNTER, 

»-«tf  rights  reserved. 


CONTENTS. 
BOOK  I. 

THE  BOMBARDMENT  OF  ALEXANDRIA. 

PAGB 

CHAPTER  I.— The  Deserted  Hotel,                            .  5 

"        II.— Through  the  Streets  of  Alexandria,  19 

<-        III.— The  First  Gun,  ....  3I 

"        IV.— The  Oath  of  the  Arab  Boy,     -        -  43 

V. — The  Nargileh  Pipe  of  Niccovie,  the 

Levantine, 54 

«        VI.— A  Moslem  Mob,      ....  70 

VII. — The  American  Marines,  Si 

BOOK  II. 

ENGLISH  JUSTICE. 

CHAPTER  VIII.— «  The  Girls  Have  Come  !  "  -  .91 
"         IX. — Home  Again,       -        ...       IO2 
X. — The  Honorable  Sampson  Potter,   of 

Comanche  County,  Texas,         •  -120 

"        XL— Honor  Thy  Father !    -  132 

XII. — Mr.  Potter  Enters  Society,     -  -  143 

XIIL— The  Returned  Australian,         -  154 

M151434 


4  CONTENTS, 

BOOK  III. 
A  WOMAN'S  BATTLE. 

PAGE 

CHAPTER  XIV.— "All  for  my  Darter!"  -  -  •  166 
"  XV.— An  English  Judge,  -  «  -  176 
"  XVI.— A  Western  Cyclone  strikes  Mr. 

Van  Cott,  .....  190 
"  XVIL— Which  Loves  Him  Best?  -  203 
«  XVIIL— Poor  Old  Potter,  -  •  -220 

BOOK  IV. 

MR.   POTTER  TAKES  THE  WAR-PATH. 

CHAPTER  XIX. — The  Awaking  of  the  Lion,  -  -  233 
«  XX.— A  Night  in  Pans,  -  -  241 

a  XXL— The  Packet  from  Egypt,  -  -  250 
*  XXIL— The  Flight  of  the  Detective,  -  256 
"  XXIII.— The  Apotheosis  of  Sammy  Potts,  265 


MR.  POTTER  OF  TEXAS 

BOOK   I. 

THE     BOMBARDMENT  OF 
ALEXANDRIA. 


CHAPTER  I. 


THE    DESERTED    HOTEL. 

"  SIR,  I  have  something  to  tell  you  !  " 

"  My  heaven  !  Is  there  a  woman — an  English  woman 
in  this  accursed  place  to-night?"  ejaculates  the  young 
man  to  whom  she  has  spoken,  turning  with  a  start  and 
looking  at  her  in  amazed  horror,  but  still  holding  in  his 
hand  a  revolver,  the  cartridges  of  which  he  has  been 
carefully  examining. 

"  I  have  come  all  the  way  from  Europe  to  say  to  you 
something  of  great  importance." 

"  There  is  nothing  of  importance  now  but  to  save  your 
life  !  " 

"  My  life  ?     Is  our  personal  danger  so  imminent  ?  " 

"  There  is  death  to  every  European  man  or  woman  in 
this  city  to-night.  And  they  deserted  you  ?  "  This  last  is 
said  in  surprised  astonishment,  for  he  has  noticed  the 
unusual  refinement  and  beauty  of  the  woman  speaking 
to  him,  the  richness  of  her  dress  and  jewels,  though  she 
is  in  the  black  of  deep  mourning,  and  the  latent  appear 
ance  of  haughty  command  in  her  pose,  notwithstanding 
there  is  in  her  manner  and  gaze,  as  she  addresses  him,  a 
curious  apologetic  humility,  as  if  she  were  ashamed  of  an 
indefinite  something. 


6  MR.   POTTER  OP  TEXAS. 

"  They  did  not  desert  me  !  " 

"  Then  how  in  Heaven's  name  are  you  here  ?  " 

"  I  saw  them  going  away.  The  British  Consul  insisted 
on  my  leaving  also  ;  but  I  refused.  I  said  I  must  see 
you,  I  had  come  so  far  to  do  so.  They  telegraphed  from 
Cairo  that  you  would  surely  be  here  this  morning,  and  I 
waited,  expecting  you,  till  too  late  ;  then  I  hurried  to  the 
shore  and  found  all  communication  with  the  ships  cut  off. 
What  was  I,  a  woman,  to  do  in  this  strange  city,  not  speak 
ing  an  Eastern  language  ?  My  dragoman  brought  me  back 
again  to  the  hotel,  and  then  even  he  became  frightened  and 
left  me.  The  sun  went  down,  the  gas  burners  would  not 
light,  and  so  I  cowered  alone  in  this  vast,  deserted,  ten- 
antless  hotel,  till  I  heard  a  step,  and,  following  it,  afraid 
to  make  a  noise,  but  more  afraid  of  missing  help  or  aid, 
saw  you  light  that  candle,  and,  thank  God  !  looked  upon 
an  English  face.  I  have  seen  your  photograph.  You 
are  Charles  Errol,  son  of  Ralph  Errol,  of  Melbourne, 
Australia." 

"  Yes,  and  you  are ?  " 

"  Lady  Sarah  Annerley !  " 

"  Lady  Annerley  ?  here — to-night — in  Egypt  ? "  mutters 
the  young  man,  astounded;  for  the  name  she  mentions  is 
one  that  has  often  appeared  as  a  leader  of  rank  and 
fashion  in  all  newspapers  that  chronicle  the  doings  of  the 
aristocracy. 

"  Yes,"  she  replies,  "  Sarah,  widow  of  Viscount  Anner 
ley,  and  daughter  of  the  late  Sir  Jonas  Stevens.  I  must 
speak  with  you  for  half  an  hour  ;  I  have  come  from 
Europe  for  that  purpose  !  " 

"  Half  an  hour  !  If  we  stay  here  half  an  hour  I  shall 
be  dead — and  you —  He  gives  a  horrified  gasp  at  the 

thought  that  comes  into  his  mind,  for  the  more  he  ap 
preciates  the  fresh  exquisite  patrician  loveliness  of  the 
woman  the  more  he  is  amazed  and  dismayed  at  the 
frightful  nature  of  the  danger  that  he  sees  surrounding  her. 
"  Don't  you  know,"  he  continues  rapidly,  as  if  time  were 
very  precious,  "  that  at  this  moment  we  are  probably  the 
only  English  man  and  woman  alive  in  Alexandria  to 
night  ?  That  the  instant  the  English  admiral  opens  his 
guns  upon  the  Egyptian  batteries  it  will  be  the  signal  for 
these  Eastern  fanatics,  who  think  themselves  blessed  by 
Allah  in  the  deaths  of  unbelievers,  to  kill  with  fantastic 


MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  j 

atrocities  every  European  that  is  not  in  safety  on  board 
the  ships  that  fled  from  the  harbor  to-day  ?  " 

For  the  time  that  this  man  is  speaking  to  this  woman 
is  at  eleven  o'clock  upon  the  night  of  the  loth  of 
July,  1882,  when  every  European  inhabitant  of  Alex 
andria  who  could  escape  from  that  Egyptian  city  had 
fled  for  his  life  as  best  he  might  from  Moslem  re 
venge  and  hatred;  deserting  his  home,  occupation  and 
worldly  goods.  All  these  had  taken  refuge  upon  the 
ships  which  had  sailed  away,  their  decks  black  with 
fugitives,  leaving  the  harbor  deserted  save  by  the  British 
squadron  and  a  few  foreign  men-of-war;  for  the  English 
Admiral  had  that  day  given  notice  to  Arabi  Pasha,  who, 
half  as  rebel,  half  as  patriot,  controlled  the  Egyptian  ar 
mies,  that  he  would  the  next  morning  bombard  the  forts 
and  batteries  of  Alexandria. 

The  place  where  this  man  and  this  woman  are  mutter 
ing  to  each  other  with  pale  lips  is  a  deserted  parlor 
upon  the  first  floor  of  the  abandoned  Hotel  de  I'Europe  ; 
the  light  by  which  they  see  each  other  that  of  a  flicker 
ing  candle,  for  the  gas  works  of  the  town  have  been 
deserted  and  the  city  is  in  darkness.  Around  them,  as 
if  to  emphasize  their  loneliness  and  desolation,  are 
articles  of  dress  and  open  trunks,  and  furniture  littered 
with  robes,  bric-a-brac,  and  even  jewelry  ;  showing  the 
haste  with  which  their  European  owners  have  fled  for 
life  and  liberty  from  this  Eastern  political  sirocco  of 
destruction  and  death. 

"  Why  did  you  not  go  with  the  rest  in  the  steamers  ? " 
Errol  continues  hurriedly. 

"  I  have  been  here  but  three  days.  They  said  every 
Englishman  must  come  down  from  Cairo  to  escape.  I 
expected  you  each  hour." 

"  And  I — that  cursed  dragoman  ! — why  could  he  have 
kept  me  ? — what  object  ? "  cries  the  young  man  striking 
his  forehead.  "  A  week  ago  I  sent  him  into  Cairo  from 
Memphis  and  he  said,  «  Everything  quiet/  so  I  took  my 
time." 

"  I  thought  you  would  surely  be  here  this  morning." 

"  And  so  I  would,  but  our  train  was  stopped  by  the 
black  troops  that  scoundrel  Arabi  has  in  reserve  at  Kafr- 
el-Dawar.  I  had  to  tramp  it  in,  seventeen  hot  and  dusty 
miles.  I  should  never  have  found  my  way  here  but  for  lit- 


MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

tie  Osman,  who  knows  every  by-path  in  Egypt.  How  that 
puny  Armenian  beggar  stuck  to  my  long  steps  to-day  is 
a  mystery.  However,  I've  hung  on  to  these  and  they  may 
help  us."  With  this  the  young  man  resumes  the  inspec 
tion  of  his  arms  that  Lady  Annerley  has  interrupted,  care 
fully  testing  the  lock  of  a  Remington .  sporting  rifle  that 
is  covered  with  the  dust  of  his  long  tramp. 

"  But  I  must  tell  you,"  says  the  woman,  laying  her  hand 
upon  his  arm  with  a  curious  pathetic  intensity,  "  I  must 
tell  you  !  "  and  would  go  on  but  he  interrupts  her  by  : 

"  My  Remington  seems  to  be  dirty,  give  me  a  piece  of 
rag  !--your  handkerchief,  anything — tear  a  piece  from 
that  silk  skirt;  the  owner  '11  never  miss  it  !  " 

And  Lady  Annerley  obeying  him,  he  continues:  "  Hold 
the  candle  up,  please,  so  I  can  get  a  better  look  at  the 
lock  ;  this  thing  may  save  you  as  well  as  me." 
^  As  she  does  so  she  begins  again:  "This  informa 
tion  I  came  from  Europe  to  tell  you  concerns  your 
father " 

But  the  click  of  the  breech-loader  interrupts  her  as  the 
young  man  tests  it  and  he  remarks:  "My  father  can 
wait,  his  life's  not  in  danger  ;  yours  is — "  and  then  very 
suddenly :  "  Blow  out  that  candle  !  " 

"Why?" 

She  gets  no  answer  to  this  and  gives  a  little  suppressed 
shriek,  for  Errol  has  blown  it  out  himself. 

"  Why  did  you  do  that  ?  "  she  asks  faintly. 

For  answer  the  young  man  points  out  of  one  of  the 
windows.  Lady  Annerley  has  been  so  engrossed  with 
what  she  has  to  tell  that  she  has  not  heard  the  pecul 
iar  cries  of  a  Moslem  populace,  the  clank  of  arms,  and 
the  tramp  of  marching  men  that  comes  in  at  the  win 
dow,  growing  louder  and  louder  each  second.  She  goes 
cautiously  to  the  opening  and  looking  out  sees  the 
street  Mohammed  AH,  that  grand  artery  of  Alexandria, 
full  of  commotion,  noise  and  action.  A  regiment  of 
Soudanese  Arabs,  followed  by  one  of  the  black  troops  of 
Arabi  Pasha,  are  tramping  down  the  avenue  to  reinforce 
the  batteries  and  forts  of  Ras-el-Tin.  The  blackness  of 
Egyptian  night  that  crushes  the  town  with  darkness  com 
pels  the  leading  files  of  each  company  to  carry  torches, 
the  flames  from  which  illuminate  and  light  up  in  vivid  but 
ghastly  brightness  the  swarthy  faces,  Eastern  features  and 


MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS.  9 

flashing  eyes  of  these  barbarians,  making  them  look  more 
like  devils  than  men  ;  and  as  they  pass  with  slashing  gait 
and  hideous  cries  and  Ethiopian  jabber,  the  light  of 
battle  in  their  eyes  and  lust  of  blood  in  their  hearts,  this 
delicate  English  lady,  who  has  never  in  her  gentle  life 
seen  even  a  blow  in  anger,  shudders  as  she  looks  on  them 
and  mutters,  "  Heaven  help  me  !  "  and,  for  the  first  time, 
her  peril  comes  home  to  her. 

Errol,  who  has  stolen  to  her  side,  whispers  :  "  A  light 
would  attract  their  attention — now  they  think  the  Frank- 
ish  hotel  deserted.  Better  darkness  than  those  devils  !  " 
and  draws  her  from  the  window.  He  can  feel  her  shiver, 
and  asks  with  some  concern  ;  "  You  have  not  caught 
the  fever  ? " 

"  No,  I  think  not." 

"  But  you  shivered — you  are  not  so  frightened  as  all 
that  ? " 

"  No." 

"  You  can't  be  cold  this  burning  night  ?" 

But  she,  sinking  into  a  chair,  does  not  answer  him ;  for 
it  is  the  first  time  Lady  Annerley  has  felt  the  touch  of 
Charley  Errol's  hand,  and  it  has  given  her  a  sensation 
that  is  neither  fear,  nor  cold,  nor  even  that  of  an  Egyptian 
fever  ;  but  something  she  cannot  describe,  nor  define,  nor 
liken  to  anything  else  she  has  ever  experienced  before  ; 
for  Lady  Annerley  though  a  widow  has  never  as  yet  loved 
any  man. 

While  she  is  silent,  the  young  man  is  thinking  how  to 
save  her.  Before  she  came  to  him  he  had  intended,  aided 
by  the  darkness,  to  make  his  way  by  stealth  if  possible, 
or  fighting  if  necessary,  to  the  shore.  Then,  if  unable 
to  find  a  boat,  to  swim  off  to  one  of  the  English  gun 
boats  in  the  harbor  ;  for  when  a  boy  living  in  semi-tropical 
Australia  he  had  become  swimmer  enough  to  make  such 
an  attempt  not  only  a  feasible  but  an  easy  performance. 
Now  he  is  conscious  that  any  such  plan  is  only  practica 
ble  by  abandoning  this  woman,  who  can  at  this  moment 
look  for  her  protection  to  no  other  aid  than  his.  To 
desert  her  never  even  enters  his  honest,  brave  Anglo- 
Saxon  head,  therefore  he  is  racking  his  brain  for  some 
other  scheme  that  promises  safety  to  her  as  well  as  to  him. 

"  Of  what  are  you  thinking  ? "  says  Lady  Annerley, 
breaking  the  silence  that  has  become  all  the  more  notice" 


10  MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 

able,  the  noise  of  the  passing  troops  and  accompanying 
rabble  having  died  away  in  the  distance. 

He  is  too  generous  to  tell  her  how  she  has  affected  his 
chance  of  safety,  and  replies  simply:  "  Of  a  way  to 
give  us  both  a  chance  of  life ! "  The  next  instant 
he  whispers  "  Hush  !  "  Then  she  hears  the  click  of  his 
revolver  as  he  cocks  it  and  a  coming  feline  footstep  in  the 
gloom. 

"  Halt  or  I  fire  !  "  says  the  Englishman. 

"  It  is  only  I,  Sahib.  Is  the  Frankish  gentleman  fright 
ened  ?  "  murmurs  a  soft  musical  Eastern  voice  with  a 
slight  Armenian  accent. 

"Oh!  it's  you,  Osman  !  What  made  you  so  long} 
Have  you  found  anything  downstairs  to  eat  ?  " 

"  None,  Sahib,  the  Frankish  proprietor  has  locked  up  his 
cellars  and  kitchens,  and  run  off  to  the  ships  ;  but  there 
is  a  cafe  a  few  hundred  yards  away,  kept  by  a  Levantine 
who  loves  his  property  too  well  to  desert  it  by  anything 
but  death — we  might  find  something  there  !  " 

"All  right,  we  must  get  there  somehow.  I  haven't  had 
a  bite  since  I  left  Cairo  last  night." 

"  I  have  a  bottle  of  wine  and  some  crackers  in  my 
room  ;  the  proprietor  sent  them  to  me  before  he  left," 
suddenly  says  Lady  Annerley. 

"  By  George,  that's  awfully  jolly ! "  exclaims  Errol. 
With  a  little  wine,  I  don't  care  of  what  brand  or  vintage, 
and  a  bite  of  anything  I'm  a  new  man. "  Then  he  suddenly 
pauses  and  says  :  "  Forgive  the  selfishness  of  hunger,  but 
you  must  need  the  things  yourself,  Lady  Annerley  ! " 

"  Not  at  all,"  she  replies.  "  Martin  and  I  ate  all  we 
wanted  two  hours  ago  !  " 

"Martin?" 

"  Yes,  my  maid.  She  remained  with  me  ;  but  is  now 
cowering  in  my  room.  The  lonely  darkness  has  frightened 
her.  I  don't  need  anything  so  much  as  your  strength  and 
protection,  Mr.  Errol.  I'll  get  the  wine  and  eatables  in 
a  second,  my  room  is  only  two  doors  away,"  and  before 
he  can  stop  her  Lady  Annerley  hurries  off,  leaving  Errol 
and  his  Armenian  dragoman  together. 

"  The  Sahib  has  a  lady  in  his  care?" 

"Two,  apparently  ! " 

"  That  is  bad  ;  to-night  is  a  very  bad  time  to  be  troubled 
with  women." 


MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS.  tl 

"  Nevertheless  I  shall  not  desert  them.  Osman,  in 
the  two  months  I  have  had  you  for  my  dragoman  knock 
ing  about  Egypt,  your  ingenuity  has  got  me  out  of  a 
good  many  difficulties  ;  help  me  to  get  these  women  on  a 
ship  to-night,  and  I'll  make  it  the  best  paid  job  you  ever 
had." 

"  Impossible,  Sahib  !  The  boats  in  the  harbor  are  all 
guarded  by  order  of  Arabi  Pasha.  All  the  Franks  have 
gone  away  on  the  ships  dreading  the  vengeance  of  our 
populace.  A  good  many  Egyptians  have  fled  from  their 
homes  fearing  the  cannons  of  the  English.  To-morrow 
will  be  a  great  day  in  Alexandria  !  "  This  last  is  said 
with  a  cat-like  glitter  and  sparkle  in  his  restless  Eastern 
eyes ;  but  the  room  is  dark  and  Errol  does  not  notice  it, 
as  these  remarks  of  Osman  have  given  him  an  idea  that 
may  lead  to  safety. 

"  A  grand  day  in  Alexandria  !  "  repeats  the  dragoman, 
as  if  in  meditation,  for  there  is  no  greater  scoundrel  in 
this  world  nor  the  next  than  this  same  Osman  Ali,  half 
Arab,  half  Armenian,  and  whole  rogue,  called  by  his  tribe 
Backsheesh  Osman,  Anglice  "  Begging  Osman,"  and  he 
has  some  rather  curious  ideas  as  to  what  his  occupation 
will  be  upon  the  morrow  in  Alexandria. 

The  next  instant  Errol  interrupts  his  meditation  saying  : 
"  You  tell  me  a  number  of  Mohammedans  have  left  their 
homes  for  fear  of  the  English  guns  ? " 

"  Yes,  Sahib  !  "  returns  Osman,  who  in  his  various  wan 
derings  has  been  in  India  and  addresses  his  employer  in 
Indian  fashion.  "  They  will  not  return  to  their  houses 
till  after  the  fight  is  over ;  they  are  in  the  country 
hiding." 

"  Can  you  not  get  one  of  these  deserted  Moslem 
houses  for  me  and  these  women  ?  In  the  home  of  a  be 
liever  the  rabble  would  never  seek  for  European  refu 
gees." 

"  Ah,  yes,  they  would  not  search  for  you  there  unless 
some  one  told  them  !  What  a  mind  the  Sahib  has  !  But 
to  find  a  deserted  Moorish  house  this  dark  night — it 
will  be  very  difficult  and  expensive." 

"You  know  every  nook  and  everything  else  about 
Alexandria,  Osman.  Get  me  the  home  of  a  follower  of 
Allah.  We'll  risk  the  English  guns,  but  not  Arab  massa 
cre.  Set  about  it  at  once  !  " 


12  MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS. 

"The  night  is  dark.  It  is  dangerous  to  tread  the 
streets." 

"  Do  it  !  " 

"  Yes,  Sahib,  to-morrow  morning. " 

"  Now  !  At  once  !  " 

"  It  will  be  so  expensive  !  " 

"  Curse  the  expense  !  Don't  you  see  these  ladies' 
safety  depends  upon  it  ?  Do  as  I  tell  you  !  "  and  Errol's 
voice  has  a  ring  in  it  that  stops  any  reply  from  Osman 
Ali,  whose  white  teeth  as  he  smiles  glitter  in  the  darkness. 

"  Can't  you  light  the  candle,  Mr.  Errol  ?  Those  awful 
soldiers  must  be  far  away,  and  I  cannot  see  to  come  to 
you  with  the  refreshments,"  floats  to  them  from  the  door 
in  Lady  Annerley's  musical  voice. 

Osman  goes  quickly  to  the  windows,  pulls  their  drap 
eries  over  them,  and  says  :  "  The  light  will  not  betray  us 
now  ;  "  then,  as  Errol  strikes  a  match  and  the  candle  illu 
minates  the  room,  gives  a  little  start  and  suppressed  cry 
as  Lady  Annerley  comes  out  of  the  darkness  ;  for  this 
delicate,  fragile  Moslem  imp  is  very  susceptible  to  female 
loveliness,  and  for  half  a  moment  imagines  that  he  sees  a 
genuine  houri  stolen  from  Paradise. 

For  though  English,  Sarah  Annerley  to-night  is  an 
Eastern  picture.  The  heat  of  Egypt  in  mid-summer 
compels  a  tropical  lightness  of  costume,  and  her  dress, 
though  black,  is  fragile  in  texture,  and  sweeps  and  clings 
to  her  perfect  figure,  outlining  and  developing  each 
charm  of  movement  or  pose.  In  it  she  looks  like  a 
statue  of  jet,  save  where  the  transparent  tissue  of  her 
gown  makes  it  ivory  by  revealing  the  whiteness  of  her 
gleaming  arms  and  graceful  neck,  which  supports  a  face 
of  delicate,  refined,  aristocratic,  womanly  beauty  ;  its 
haughtiness  relieved  by  a  trace  of  passion,  its  passion  re 
deemed  by  a  brow  of  intellect.  All  this  is  made  charming, 
radiant,  and  vivid  by  a  pair  of  grand  dark  eyes  through 
which  the  soul  says  two  things :  "  I  shall  love  but  once, 
for  I  shall  love  forever." 

Her  gaze  is  fixed  on  Errol  and  her  beauty  seems  to 
come  more  strongly  home  to  him  than  in  the  few  excited 
minutes  in  which  he  has  seen  her  before.  Both  the 
Englishman  and  the  Armenian  gaze  in  silence  at  Lady 
Annerley  as  she  comes  toward  them,  followed  by  her 
maid,  a  Scotch  girl,  who  crouches  along  in  a  distracted 


MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS.  13 

sort  of  way  bearing  a  bottle  of  Rhine  wine  and  a  can  of 
English  biscuits.  "  Martin,"  says  her  mistress  suddenly, 
as  the  girl  with  a  slight  shriek  stumbles  over  some  of  the 
robes  that  litter  the  room,  "  there  is  no  danger.  These 
gentlemen  are  here  to  take  care  of  us.  Pass  them  the 
wine  !  "  but  the  next  instant,  apparently  changing  her 
mind,  she  assists  Errol  herself,  leaving  her  maid  to 
do  a  like  office  for  Mr.  Osman,  who  smacks  his  thin 
lips  over  the  drink  forbidden  by  Allah,  and  munches 
Frankish  crackers  with  a  very  good  appetite,  for  he  as 
well  as  his  master  has  had  nothing  to  eat  since  the  even 
ing  before  when  they  left  Cairo. 

This  is  perfectly  apparent  in  Errol's  case,  as  that  stal 
wart  young  Englishman  finishes  up  the  biscuits  and 
pours  the  last  drop  of  wine  down  his  throat  in  less  than 
five  minutes  after  he  gets  his  hands  on  them. 

Lady  Annerley  stands  silently  looking  at  him  as  he 
sits  lolling  back  over  a  sofa,  his  rifle  lying  across  his 
knees.  His  legs  and  feet  in  their  stout  walking-boots  and 
knickerbockers  are  thrown  lazily  over  a  silken  gown  that 
an  Italian  lady  had  tossed  aside  as  she  fled  for  safety 
the  evening  before.  His  long,  athletic  arms  in  shirt 
sleeves,  rolled  up  above  the  elbows,  display  his  big 
white  muscles,  as  he  eats  and  drinks  in  a  manner  that 
shows  that  it  is  only  starvation  makes  him  forget  the 
great  fatigue  and  exertions  of  the  day. 

He  has  thrown  aside  his  coat,  the  night  being  hot  ; 
and  apparently  eats  and  thinks  at  the  same  time.  The 
instant  he  has  finished  the  first,  he  says  quickly: 
"  Osman,  go  out  and  get  two  donkeys  for  Lady  Annerley 
and  her  maid  to  ride.  We  must  leave  this  hotel  at 
once  !  " 

"  Donkeys  will  cost  a  great  deal  of  money  to-night," 
returns  the  dragoman. 

"  All  right  !  Buy  the  cursed  donkeys  !  Here's  five 
hundred  francs,"  and  the  young  man  crosses  to  his  coat 
that  lies  over  one  of  the  chairs  in  the  room,  looks  in  one 
of  its  pockets,  starts  as  if  astonished  ;  then  hurriedly 
rummages  in  every  one  of  them,  apparently  startled,  and 
after  a  quick  search  of  his  trousers  and  vest,  and  a  hur 
ried  look  about  the  floor,  says  in  a  broken,  horrified 
voice:  "My  pocket-book's  stolen!  My  God,  to  be  alone 
\n  this  city  to-night  without  money  ! " 


14  MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

"  I  have  plenty  of  that,"  cries  Lady  Annerley.  "  I've  a 
thousand  pounds  in  Bank  of  England  notes,  and  a  few 
thousand  francs  in  French  gold  and  Egyptian  silver  in 
my  room,  besides  my  diamonds,"  and  she  points  to  her 
ears  where  a  couple  of  brilliants  of  large  size  and  first 
water  sparkle,  and  give  out  fire  even  in  the  dim  light  of 
the  flickering  candle.  At  the  mention  of  this  consider 
able  sum  of  money  a  grim  smile  crosses  Osman's  feat 
ures,  but  he  says  nothing,  only  gazes  upon  the  diamonds 
intently. 

The  English  lady  has  turned  to  go  to  her  room,  but 
the  Australian  gentleman  stops  her,  saying  hurriedly  and 
somewhat  doggedly :  "  I  would  rather  not  borrow  your 
money." 

"  But  you  must !  You  can't  get  it  from  any  one  else. 
The  consuls  have  gone.  The  banks  are  closed  and  their 
treasure  taken  away  on  board  ship.  Mine  was  the  last 
check  paid  by  the  Anglo-Egyptian  bank  before  it  closed 
its  doors  ;  besides  this  money  is  partly  for  my  use,  the 
donkeys  were  intended  for  my  service." 
"Still  I'd  rather  not." 

"  But  you  shall ! "  says  Lady  Annerley.  "  I  demand 
it.  Take  it  to  save  us  both!  " 

This  discussion  is  interrupted  by  Osman,  who  comes  to 
the  side  of  Errol  and  suggests  :  "  Why  not  use  your  first 
plan  ?  Make  your  way  to  the  harbor  and  swim  to  the 
English  war  ships— 

"  And  leave  these  ladies  ?  " 

"These  ladies  shall  be  my  care.  I  can  hide  them 
better  without  you  than  with  you.  They  shall  be  safe, 
I,  Osman  Ali,  swear  it  by  the  beard  of  Mahomet !  " 

"  Impossible  !  I  were  not  a  man  if  I  deserted  women 
to-night  ! " 

"  You  had  a  way  to  save  yourself  and  gave  it  up  for 
me,  a  stranger  to  you  ?  Mr.  Errol,  make  use  of  it  at 
once  !  I  am  not  afraid.  I  can  take  care  of  myself,  this 
man  has  sworn  to  save — 

She  doesn't  finish  the  sentence,  for  as  she  turns  to 
look  on  the  man  in  whose  honor  she  is  about  to  trust,  he 
cannot  for  an  instant  control  his  features,  and  a  grin  of 
such  fantastic  joy  flits  across  his  Oriental  face  that  the 
words  die  out  on  Lady  Annerley's  lips,  a  sickly  terror 
giving  place  to  any  faith  in  the  promises  of  Osman  Ali. 


MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  1«( 

This  is  emphasized  by  her  maid  who  gasps :  *'  Oh, 
my  lady,  don't  let  him  leave  us  alone  with  the  hea 
then!  " 

"  We  are  wasting  very  precious  time.  Under  no  cir 
cumstances  could  I  leave  English  women  alone  to-night ; 
not  if  I  knew  my  life  depended  on  it ;  "  and  Errol  as  he 
says  this  tosses  back  from  his  forehead  the  yellow 
Saxon  locks  that  make  his  blue  eyes  seem  so  hand 
some  to  Sarah  Annerley.  Then  he  goes  on  sternly  : 
"  This  discussion  must  stop  at  once !  To  end  it  I  will 
borrow  your  money  and  if  anything  happens  to  me,  my 
father,  who  is  one  of  the  richest  men  in  Australia,  will  re 
pay  you  ! " 

"  Your  father  is  rich — and  happy  ?  "  gasps  Lady  Anner 
ley. 

"  Certainly!  Both  !  He's  one  of  the  jolliest  chaps  in  the 
world  !  Why  not  ? " 

"  I — I  did  not  know — I  never  saw  him — I  will  get  you 
the  money — and  am  but  too  glad  that  it  may  be  of  use  to 
— to  us  !  "  With  this  Lady  Sarah  leaves  the  room  in  a 
dazed  sort  of  manner,  as  if  she  almost  doubted  Charley 
Errol's  words. 

The  maid  runs  out  after  her,  and  as  she  searches  for 
her  purse  Lady  Annerley  hears  her  abigail  whisper  in  her 
ear :  "  Oh,  my  lady,  don't — don't  trust  that  Egyptian. 
His  smile  makes  me  sick." 

"  Don't  be  afraid,  Martin  !  "  says  her  mistress  sharply  as 
she  puts  the  money  in  her  pocket,  "  I  have  perfect  confi 
dence  in  Mr.  Errol  !  " 

"  So  have  I,  marm  !  "  returns  the  abigail.  "  He's  that 
handsome  that  I  could  trust  him  with  my  life,  couldn't 
you,  my  lady  ? " 

"  Perhaps  !  "  mutters  Lady  Annerley  and  gives  a  curi 
ous  little  sigh. 

This  is  interrupted  by  Errol  who  knocks  on  her 
door,  saying  :  "  Excuse  me,  can  I  come  in  ?  Osman  tells 
me  it  is  better  that  you  both  arrange  your  toilets  so  as  to 
look  like  Egyptian  women  in  the  street." 

"  Come  in  at  once  !  Martin,  open  the  door  !  "  says 
Lady  Annerley,  but  here  gives  an  exclamation  of  surprise 
and  her  maid  a  shriek  of  fear  ;  for  as  the  abigail  does  her 
bidding  a  tall  figure  draped  in  a  long  dark  Egyptian 
cloak,  his  feet  shod  in  yellow  Turkish  slippers  and  his 


16  MR.    POTTER    OF   TEXAS. 

head  covered  and  concealed  by  a  bright  Arab  turban 
aPartment  carrying  the  lighted  candle  in 


"  Don't  be  afraid,  Lady  Annerley,"  laughs  Errol  with 
an  attempt  at  mirth,  «  I've  gone  into  the  Eastern  costume 
also;  Osman  said  it  was  safest  and  I  picked  up  this  rig 
about  the  hotel.  George  !  isn't  it  horribly  lonely  ?  Not 
a  soul  but  us  in  this  great  empty  caravansary."  And  the 
laugh  dies  away  as  the  young  man  thinks  of  the  task  h<* 
has  set  himself  to  do  this  night. 

"  Here  is  the  money  !  "  remarks  his  charge,  giving  him 
her  purse. 

"A  couple  of  thousand  francs  '11  be  sufficient  ;  keep 
the  rest,  Lady  Sarah,"  says  Mr.  Errol,  helping  himself 
and  returning  the  balance.  «  My  arms  and  cartridges 
are  weight  enough  for  me  after  the  tramp  of  to-day 
Now  !  and  his  voice  becomes  that  of  authority,  for 
Charles  Errol  has  generally  been  a  leader  in  most  of  the 
affairs  of  his  life,  from  stroke  of  the  Oxford  crew  to  boss 
ing  the  sheep-herders  upon  his  father's  great  ranges  in 
Australia.  "  If  I  am  to  command  I  must  have  obedience  • 
upon  it  depends  our  lives  !  This  is  no  masquerade  for 
fun!  ^  For  the  maid  having  regained  her  confidence  by 
faith  in  an  Englishman's  presence  and  promise  has  giggled 
a  little  at  the  sight  she  makes  muffled  up  to  the  eyes  in  a 
long  wrap,  which  gives  that  hideous  appearance  peculiar 
to  Eastern  women  on  the  streets. 

"  I  am  perfectly  aware  of  that,"  says  Lady  Annerley, 
arranging  the  draperies  she  has  thrown  around  her  and 
veiling  her  face  closely.  «  Martin,  be  quiet  !  "  This  last 
is  said  very  sharply,  for  the  young  Scotch  girl  is  appar 
ently  still  amused  at  the  appearance  she  makes. 

"  All  right,"  says  Errol.  "  I  want  you  both  to  pin  a  little 
piece  of  bright  ribbon  on  your  arms,  for  if  we  get  mixed 
up  in  a  crowd  in  the  streets  I  must  be  able  to  recognize 
you  at  a  glance,  for  neither  of  you  must  say  a  single 
word—  an  English  exclamation  might  destroy  us.  Now 
1  11  go  off  and  see  if  Osman  has  got  the  donkeys.  He 
told  me  he  had  money  enough  in  his  pocket  for  that.  " 
With  this  he  gets  to  the  door  but  suddenly  returns,  and 
laying  his  revolver  beside  Lady  Annerley,  says  :  "  While 
I'm  away  you  may  feel  safer  with  that  to  your  hand  ;  it 
is  m  perfect  order  and  loaded.  I  shall  hardly  be  gone 


MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS.  17 

more  than  a  minute,  however,  and  you'd  better  ^utilize 
the  time  by  putting  on  a  good  stout  pair  of  boots." 

"  Boots  !  "  echoes  his  fair  charge,  blushing  slightly 
and  stealing  a  glance  at  a  small  foot  that  she^  suddenly 
withdraws  from  view.  "  Why,  my  feet  are— 

"  Are  in  slippers,  and  we  may  have  some  hard  walk 
ing  to  do."  With  this  Errol  gets  to  the  door  and  then 
suddenly  commands,  "  Both  of  you  put  on  boots  !  "  and 
is  gone. 

"  Isn't  that  a  man? "  mutters  Martin  in  admiration. 

"  Stop  talking  and  put  on  my  boots,"  says  her  mis 
tress.  "  Let  this  man  who  risks  his  life  for  us  see  that  we 
obey  him." 

"  Yes,  my  lady,"  and  the  maid  kneels  down  to  do  her 
duty  that  is  interrupted  by  a  shudder  and  a  shiver  every 
time  her  eye  catches  sight  of  the  loaded  revolver.  For 
Martin's  is  a  mind  to  which  the  physical  only  appeals, 
and  a  revolver  is  a  great  physical  fact  to  Martin's  intel 
lect  this  night.  She  is  kept  at  her  labor  with  such  vigor 
by  her  mistress  that  when  Errol  returns  a  minute  or  two 
after,  Lady  Annerley  and  her  maid  are  both  bundled  up 
to  the  eyes,  and  as  like  Eastern  women  as  English  women 
can  be.  As  they  are  about  to  leave,  the  young  man  sud 
denly  says  to  his  charge:  "  I  can  give  you  a  minute  or  so 
more  ;  most  of  the  crowd  have  followed  the  troops  away 
from  the  door.  Put  a  change  of  linen  for  yourself  and 
maid  and  any  articles  of  personal  value  to  yourself  in  a 
small  valise." 

"And  have  you  carry  it,  burdened  with  arms  as  you 
are  ?  No,  I  can  get  along  without  them  !  " 

"  This  affair  may  last  for  days,  perhaps  weeks ;  you 
must  take  them.  Besides,  if  you  do  not,  everything  you 
value  will  be  lost  to  you,  for  I  expect  this  hotel  will  soon 
be  nothing  but  ruins." 

"  Then  Martin  must  carry  it." 

"All  right,  as  I  must  have  my  arms  free  in  case 
of  accident  ;  please  do  as  I  tell  you  ! "  whispers 
Errol. 

"  How  thoughtful  you  are  of  me,"  returns  Lady  An 
nerley,  musingly,  and  then  she  calls  her  maid,  and  the 
two  together  select,  by  the  light  of  the  dying  candle  that 
is  now  flickering  its  life  out  down  in  its  socket,  some 
articles  for  their  immediate  wants,  and  a  few  jewels  and 
a 


18  MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 

souvenirs  that  Lady  Annerley  values  either  for  their  asso 
ciation  or  intrinsic  worth. 

While  the  women  do  this,  Charley  Errol  and  Mr  Os 
man  Ah  outside  in  the  deserted  hall  converse  in  hurried 
whispers  as  to  the  best  plan  for  safety  after  leaving  the 

"I  am  ready  to  go  now,"  says  Lady  Annerley,  coming 
to  the  door  and  looking  with  a  shudder  into  the  gloom 
of  the  great  corridors. 

m    "In  a  second,"  returns  Errol,  feeling  that  his  revolver 
is  ready  to  his  hand. 

"Oh!  Don't  stay  any  longer.  Don't!  Don't'"  This 
last  is  a  cry  of  agonized  terror  from  Martin,  for  the  can 
dle  has  suddenly  with  a  great  flicker  gone  out,  making 
the  place  more  dark  and  the  lonely  stillness  more  impres 
sive  than  before. 

"Come  !  "  says  Errol,  taking  Lady  Annerley  by  the 
Osman,  stop  that  girl's  mouth  and  follow  me  !  " 
and  would  go  toward  the  grand  staircase  and  entrance  to 
the  hotel,  but  the  dragoman  stops  him  by  "  That  way  is 
death.  There  is  a  crowd  of  Arabs  at  the  door  I  have 
seen  them.  Follow  me,  Sahib  !  " 

With  this  he  leads  Martin,  trembling  and  shuddering 
along  the  great  empty  corridor,  and  pursued  by  Errol 
who  gropes  his  way  after  the  slight  noise  Osman  makes! 
feeling  for  obstacles  in  the  darkness  with  one  hand  and 
half-leading,  half-supporting  this  woman  he  is  striving  to 
guide  to  safety  with  the  other.  After  a  moment  they 
turn  from  the  great  hallway  of  the  hotel  and  take  to  the 
by-ways  and  small  passages,  occasionally  stumbling  over 
trunks,  furniture  and  deserted  baggage  ;  accidents  that 
produce  faint  shudders  and  shrieks  from  the  maid-serv 
ant  and  low  blasphemies  from  Osman,  who  claps  his  hand 
over  her  mouth  and  curses  her  and  her  parents  and  her 
tomb  that  will  be  and  her  offspring  who  may  be  in  all  the 
tongues  and  dialects  of  the  East  ;  for  this  faithful  drag 
oman  is  now  very  anxious  to  save  his  charge  from  the 
fury  of  the  Moslem  rabble  he  has  heard  ascending  the 
grand  stairway  of  the  hotel  in  search  of  Christian  loot 
and  plunder.  All  this  time  Errol  says  no  word,  but 
Lady  Annerley  can  feel  that  he  saves  her  from  every 
accidental  collision  or  bruise  even  to  his  own  hurt  and 
whispers  :  "  You  are  more  needed  to-night  than  I  am  ; 


MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS.  19 

please   think   of   yourself    a  little,    not   of   me   all    the 

1HAnd  so  they  stagger  along  blind  passages  and  cross 
passages,  opening  wrong  doors  and  groping  into  wrong 
corners  and  running  against,  as  Errol  thinks  to  himself, 
«  everything  in  the  hotel,"  until  at  last  they  come  to  a  little 
stairway  leading  to  a  small  unused  side  door  known  to 
Osman,  whose  calling  makes  him  familiar  with  the  hotel, 
and  cowering  silently  down  the  steps  they  open  the  door, 
and  peering  cautiously  about,  steal  out  with  bruised  limbs 
and  torn  garments  into  the  open  air  and  streets  of  Alex 
andria. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THROUGH    THE   STREETS   OF    ALEXANDRIA. 

THERE  are  not  many  people  upon  the  Place  Moham 
med  Ali.  The  great  square  seems  deserted,  though  the 
trees  still  rustle  as  dreamily  and  the  fountains  play  as 
cheerily  as  when,  a  few  days  ago,  its  grounds  were  made 
merry  by  the  cries  of  children  and  the  hum  of  the  busy 
life  of  a  great  city.  From  this  heart  of  the  Prankish 
quarters  all  Europeans  have  fled,  and  the  Mohammedan 
population  are  chiefly  gathered  upon  the  shore  of  the 
harbor  and  about  the  fortifications,  which  are  busy  with 
the  marching  of  troops,  the  transportation  of  ammuni 
tion,  and  the  preparations  for  the  morrow's  battle  with 
the  enemies  of  the  faith  of  Allah.  This  crowd  has  been 
augmented  by  a  number  of  tribes  of  Bedouins,  who, 
scenting  combat,  blood  and  pillage,  have  hurried  from 
the  desert  into  this  city  to  add  to  the  carnage,  massacre 
and  spoliation  with  which  it  is  to  be  scourged. 

Save  the  hum  of  preparation  from  the  batteries,  the 
town  is  generally  silent  and  fearfully  dark,  even  the 
harbor  lights  and  beacons  for  the  safety  of  mariners 
having  been  extinguished  by  order  of  Arabi  Pasha.  All 
this  impresses  itself  upon  Errol,  as  he  stands  for  a  mo 
ment  regaining  his  breath  and  trying  to  see  in  what  way 


to  move. 


MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 


cry.     Looking  out  ont>  the  harbor  v"  *?"*  lndividl«l 


u     htrre^rf^-  the 

himself,  he  says  :   "SaWb    the   rlo  l  remembering 

corner  in  the,  ltuestrtehd°^re  rOU"d   the 


saddles  a«wa      «  g?  thl™'??8  Wi*  W°men'S 


MR.    POTTER  OF   TEXAS.  91 

between  the  two  great  thoroughfares  of  the  Arab  quartet 
of  the  town,  the  streets  Ras-et-Tin  and  Mosque  Ibra 
him,  making  for  the  Caft  Sphinx,  kept  by  a  Levantine 
Greek  named  Constantine  Niccovie,  a  chum,  companion, 
and  bird  of  the  same  feather  as  Osman. 

These  streets  are  so  deserted  that  Lady  Annerley,  who 
has  not  spoken  since  she  left  the  hotel,  thinks  she  may 
venture  to  say  a  word,  and  looking  at  the  young  Austra 
lian  very  kindly  whispers  :  "  A  curious  introduction  this 
one  of  ours  has  been." 

"  Very  !  "  returns  Errol,  "  and  now  you  will  perhaps 
have  time  to  tell  me  that  for  which  you  risked  your  life 
to  remain  in  Alexandria — My  heavens  1  you  are  fainting, 
this  strain  has  been  too  great !  "  and  his  arm  quickly  sup 
ports  her,  for  she  is  reeling  and  trembling  and  would  fall 
from  her  saddle  but  for  his  assistance  ;  for  the  woman  is 
thinking  to  herself,  "  How  this  man  will  hate  me  when  I 
tell  him,  as  I  must  some  day. — But  not  now—  not  to-night! 
No  man  on  earth  would  be  noble  enough  to  save  me 
after  I  told  him  THAT  I " 

As  Osman  plods  along  beside  the  Scotch  girl  he  is  med 
itating  in  great  glee.  He  has  saved  from  general  pil 
lage  the  English  lady's  money  and  diamonds  for  his  own 
individual  loot.  They  shall  be  all  his  and  more  ;  for  this 
same  Armenian  has  done  a  little  sly  dealing  in  human 
flesh  before  in  his  time  ;  and  he  thinks  that  after  the  battle 
Egypt  will  once  more  be  the  Egypt  of  old.  He  knows 
of  a  great  pasha,  who  has  a  harem  far  away  on  the  Nu 
bian  hills  high  up  the  great  river,  who  has  given  many 
purses  before  for  Prankish  women,  and  he  slyly  looks  at 
the  Scotch  girl  beside  him  and  sizes  up  her  good  points 
and  values  her  as  an  Arabian  horse-dealer  does  his  beasts. 
Then  he  gives  a  great  start  and  his  eyes  open  wide 
with  greed  of  gain  as  he  thinks  of  the  beautiful  English 
lady,  who  rides  behind  him,  in  a  way  that  would  make  her 
shudder  and  writhe  even  more  bitterly  than  her  thoughts 
are  making  her  do  now  as  Backsheesh  Osman  dances 
along  the  street  with  a  cat-like  step  and  chirps  to  his  don 
key  :  "Yal-lahl  yal-lahl"  in  his  merry  Egyptian  wayt 
then  mutters  to  himself,  as  if  intoxicated  with  some  un 
canny  joy  :  "  IT  WILL  BE  A  GRAND  DAY  IN  ALEXANDRIA 

TO-MORROW  '  " 

Thus  they  grope  their  way  along  the  close,  narrow 


92  MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS. 

Eastern   alleys,  whose   Arab    houses    sometimes  nearlv 
meet  overhead  and  which  would  be  -dark  at  mid-day  but 
are  now  so  black  that  the  party  stumble  over  half-starved 
pariah  dogs,  who  snap  and  snarl  at  them  for  driving  them 
from  the  scanty  subsistence  for  which  they  are  wallowin- 
and  nosing  in  the  garbage  and  filth  such  as  only  the  back 
streets  of  an  Egyptian  town  can  have,  the  uncleanliness 
>1  which  fills  the  nostrils  with  fetid  odors  and  the  air  with 
pestilence.      Till  at  length,  turning  into  a  wider  street 
after  passing  a  few  fellaheen  beggars  to  whom  Osman 
gives  kicks  instead  of  paras,  and  an  Arab  boy  who  is 
lamenting  some  loss  with  the  loud,  exaggerated  execra 
tions  peculiar  to  the  fantastic  rabble  of  the  Orient  but 
who  stifles  his  curses  and  cries  and  pricks  up  his  ears  at 
the  sight  of  the    two    donkeys   who   give  each  a  little 
whinny,  they  find  themselves  at  the  Cafe  Sphinx. 

Though  they  think  themselves  unobserved 'and  un 
noticed,  the  Arab  urchin  ever  since  he  saw  the  donkeys 
has  followed  them  stealthily  in  the  shadow  ;  and  to  him  is 
due  a  woful  surprise  for  the  whole  party,  even  including- 
the  Arab  boy  himself. 

The  C<*fS  Sphinx  fronts  upon  the  street  of  the  Mosque 
Ibrahim.  It  has  an  appearance  of  being  half-European 
half-Turkish,  and  is  in  a  house  of  Eastern  construction 
which  contains  at  the  back  a  little  court-yard.  Into  this 
yard  Osman  leads  the  party,  bidding  Lady  Annerley  and 
her  maid  to  remain  seated  upon  the  donkeys,  as  their  stay 
will  be  very  short.  Thinking  them  perfectly  safe  in  their 
seclusion,  Errol  follows  Osman  into  the  cafe',  for  it  is 
absolutely  necessary  for  him  to  obtain  a  supply  of  pro 
visions  sufficient  to  victual  the  Moorish  house  that  Osman 
has  assured  him  can  be  obtained  for  their  temporary 
seclusion  during  the  bombardment,  and  any  riot  or  blood 
shed  to  which  it  may  give  rise. 

So,  after  going  through  a  little  dark  doorway,  in  the 
wall,  the  Australian  finds  himself  in  a  small  room 
made  dingy  by  dirt  and  age,  and  in  the  presence  of  his 
dragoman  and  the  Greek  Levantine  who  is  the  proprietor 
of  the  place.  Further  on  beyond  them  he  can  see  a  larger 
apartment,  the  ca/S  proper,  which  is  arranged  on  one  side 
for  Eastern  customers  with  divans,  mats  and  rugs,  upon 
which  the  guests  may  loll  in  Turkish  fashion.  On  the 
other  side  there  are  a  Jot  of  tables  with  common  deal 


MR.   POTTER  OF   TEXAS.  *S 

chairs  about  them  similar  to  those  seen  in  third-rate  beer 
halls  in  European  cities.  This  portion  of  the  room  is 
apparently  intended  for  Christian  customers.  The  whole 
place  is  illuminated  by  a  couple  of  oil  lamps  that  are 
now  turned  low  ;  they  are  probably  temporary  substitutes 
for  the  gas  brackets  which  line  the  sides  of  the  room, 
but  are  useless  upon  this  night.  Over  this  dingy  scene 
hangs  the  odor  of  stale  beer,  bad  wine,  and  worse  to 
bacco.  It  is  now,  however,  Errol  is  happy  to  see,  empty  ; 
its  European  patrons  having  fled  the  town,  and  its 
Egyptian  customers  having  gathered  upon  the  docks  and 
quays  of -the  harbor  to  see  what  the  infidel  war  ships  are 
doing. 

The  owner  of  the  establishment  has  a  semi-European, 
semi-Oriental  appearance  like  his  cafi.  His  trousers  are 
greasy  and  Egyptian,  his  coat  French  and  buttonless,  he 
wears  ragged  English  side  whiskers,  and  a  shabby  Turk 
ish  turban  about  his  round  head  that  contains  two  flash 
ing  dark,  treacherous  eyes ;  a  large  hooked  nose  and  a 
pair  of  very  red  lips,  that  are  in  strong  contrast  to  his 
pale  cheeks  and  white  teeth.  His  salam  is  dignified,  his 
gestures  effusive  and  vivacious  ;  when  in  repose  he  is 
Turkish,  when  in  action,  Frenchy. 

As  the  Australian  enters,  Mr.  Osman  and  Mr.  Cpnstan- 
tine  Niccovie  are  holding  deep  converse  together  in  some 
unknown  dialect,  with  great  elevating  of  the  eyebrows  and 
much  gesticulation  of  the  hands  and  arms.  On  seeing 
him  Constantine  stops  suddenly,  and  says  effusively  in 
very  imperfect  but  intelligible  English  : 

"  The  Sheik  Errol,  I  think  you  am  ?  " 

"That  is  my  name,"  replies  the  young  man. 

(i  My  house  and  all  my  family  are  yours— aH  yours!  " 
returns  the  Levantine  with  a  solemn  salam  to  which  Errol 
replies  with  English  brusqueness  by  asking  Osman  if  he 
has  told  the  man  what  they  want. 

"  Certainly — all,  Sahib,"  is  the  dragoman's  answer. 

"  Osman  AH,  whose  breath  is  sweet  with  truth,  is  my 
instigator,  and  says  you  are  the  defender  of  women.  I 
would  give  my  life  for  women  also,  were  it  so  decreed. 
You  wish  provisions  ?  You  shall  have  them  !  But  food  is 
high.  This  is  a  time  of  scarceness.  We  are  going  to 
have  a  famine,  still  I  shall  charge  you  nothing  !  nothing  ! 
NOTHING  ' !  "  This  last  is  almost  a  shriek  as  Constantine 


a4  MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

has  become  French  and  effusive  and  he  seizes  Errol's  hand 
crying  :  «  Behold  my  prices!  "  and  then  runs  through  the 
list  of  articles  needed,  asking  for  them  something-  over  ten 
times  their  value. 

Errol,  who  has  no  time  to  haggle  or  barter,  pulls  his 
hand  out  of  the  Levantine's  greasy  clutch  and  says  sim 
ply  :  "  Bring  them  at  once  !  " 

At^this  quick  bargain  Constantine  goes  for  the  articles 
mentioned,  cursing  himself  for  not  having  demanded 
more,  while  the  Australian  turns  to  his  dragoman  and 
says  :  "  Have  you  succeeded  in  getting  a  Moslem  house 
for  my  purpose  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Sahib.  Allah  has  been  good  to  us.  Abdallah 
Yusef ,  the  Moor,  fearing  the  Prankish  cannon,  has  fled 
with  his  ^  harem,  family  and  slaves  to  his  villa  at  Rosetta. 
Constantine  Niccovie  who  has  a  kind  heart  has  the  key 
in  his  possession.  Abdallah's  bowab,  his  house-porter, 
is  now  drunk  with  wine  and  fear  and  hiding  in  the  cellar 
below  us.  Constantine  will  lease  unto  us  the  home  of 
Abdallah,  who  is  respected  by  all  true  believers  and  whose 
house  is  safe  from  their  molestation,  for  five  thousand 
francs." 

"  Five  thousand  francs  for  a  few  days  ?  It  is  an  awfully 
steep  price,"  mutters  Errol. 

"So  Constantine  himself  says,  but  his  conscience 
hurts  him  at  leasing  the  home  of  another  man.  The 
money  will  be  paid  to  Abdallah,  every  para  of  it,  and  Ab 
dallah  might  curse  him  if  the  price  was  not  sufficient. 
But  I'll  see  the  Levantine  and  ask  him  to  reduce  his 
terms."  With  this  Osman  disappears  in  pursuit  of  Nic 
covie,  chuckling  to  himself  :  "  What  matters  it  how  much 
these  English  pay  now?  To-morrow  we  will  have  their 
all  and  more  too  !  "  for  the  dragoman  has  got  slave- 
dealing  running  in  his  head  again. 

Errol  turns  and  opening  the  door  looks  at  his  charges. 
The  court-yard  is  silent,  and  Lady  Annerley  and  her  maid 
are  resting  quietly  in  their  saddles.  He  steps  out  to  the 
English  lady,  and  knowing  how  anxious  she  must  be, 
whispers  to  her:  "Everything  is  going  finely.  We 
have  the  provisions  we  need  and  I  shall  soon  get  a  place 
of  undoubted  safety  for  us  all,  but  these  Eastern  beasts 
are  extortionate.  I  fear  I  must  borrow  from  you 
again." 


MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  25 

*  Borrow  from  me  ?  Mr.  Errol,  are  you  not  lending  to 
me  perhaps  your  life  ?  Please  keep  all  for  me  ;  spend  it 
all  if  you  please,  and  then  I  still  am  the  debtor,"  and  she 
slips  her  purse  into  his  hand. 

"  Thank  you  for  your  confidence,  Lady  Annerley,"  says 
the  young  man  and  turns  back  to  the  house  again, 
speaking  a  word  of  encouragement  on  his  way  to  Mar 
tin  who  sits  her  donkey  in  a  stony  kind  of  paralyzed 
fear. 

He  is  met  at  the  door  by  Osman,  who  says  with  a  dep 
recating  shrug  of  his  shoulders  :  "  It  is  no  use ;  Niccovie 
is  a  man  of  honor  and  he  declares  his  conscience  would 
smite  him  if  he  did  Abdallah  the  wrong  to  abate  a  franc 
of  the  five  thousand.  Take  his  offer.  Think  of  the 
women  !  " 

"  All  right.  I've  no  time  to  haggle.  Give  him  his 
money,"  and  Errol  hands  over  the  sum  to  the  drago 
man,  but  concludes  rather  suspiciously:  "How  the  deuce 
does  Niccovie,  who  you  say  is  a  Levantine,  dare  to  stay 
openly  in  Alexandria  at  such  a  time  ?  " 

"  Oh — ah — Constantine  Niccovie  is  a  man  of  business 
and  would  risk  his  life  to  do  a  good  turn  in  trade,  he  is 
so  brave! "  answers  Osman,  going  with  the  cash  in  pursuit 
of  Niccovie,  who  is  still  busied  below  getting  out  the  sup 
plies  for  which  they  have  bargained.  He  does  not  how 
ever  tell  the  Australian  that  the  Greek  Levantine  is  a 
Renegado  who  has  but  lately  taken  himself  to  the  faith 
of  Mohammed,  and  is  as  safe  as  any  full-born  Moslem  who 
is  crying  to  Allah  and  cursing  the  Franks  this  night  in 
Alexandria. 

A  few  moments  after  both  the  Armenian  and  the  Le 
vantine  come  out  of  the  cellar  with  the  supplies,  which 
Errol  examines  and  finds  fairly  good,  and  enough  to  pro 
vision  the  party  for  a  week. 

"  How  the  deuce  are  we  to  carry  all  this  ? "  he  asks, 
and  is  rather  grateful  to  Osman  for  the  suggestion  that 
the  donkeys  are  strong  and  sturdy. 

"  I  paid  a  grand  [rice  for  those  beasts,  Sahib,"  says  the 
dragoman  proudly,  and  mentions  a  sum  that  makes  Errol 
open  his  eyes. 

However,  he  merely  remarks,  "I'll  settle  for  them 
when  we  get  to  Abdallah's  house,"  and  goes  about  ar 
ranging  several  little  details  with  Constantine,  the  Greek, 


96  MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

an  occupation  which  is  interrupted  very  suddenly  and 
unexpectedly  by  a  piercing  shriek  from  Martin,  outside 
in  the  court-yard,  and  Lady  Annerley's  hurrying  into 
the  room  in  a  dazed  kind  of  way  and  whispering  to  him : 
"  There  is  something  the  matter  about  those  donkeys. 
Two  men  and  a  boy  have  just  dragged  my  maid  off 
hers,  and— 

But  she  says  no  more,  for  here  the  door  is  opened 
suddenly  and  two  Nubian  policeman  appear,  one  of  them 
dragging  in  Martin  by  the  arm,  who  says  :  "  Don't ! 
dorit!"  in  a  pathetic,  pleading  tone,  and  holds  her 
hand  up  to  her  head  as  if  she  expected  the  man  to 
cuff  her  ears.  They  are  followed  by  the  Arab  boy,  who, 
though  his  eyes  are  still  red  with  the  tears  of  his  lat'e 
lamentations,  gives  a  grin  of  joy,  points  to  Osman  and 
cries  :  "  Behold  !  There  is  the  jackal  who  in  the  dark 
ness  stole  from  me  the  bread  of  life,  the  two  prettiest, 
strongest,  and  fleetest  donkeys  in  Alexandria.  May  the 
curse  of  Allah  blight  his  eyes,  and  the  dogs  of  the  desert 
defile  the  tomb  of  his  father  !  " 

For  a  moment,  under  this  invective,  the  dragoman 
starts  and  drops  his  eyes,  but  after  exchanging  a  glance 
with  Niccovie  his  coolness  comes  back  to  him,  and  looking 
up  and  seeing  that  his  accuser  is  but  a  boy,  he  turns  upon 
him,  and  not  to  be  outdone  in  invective  fires  at  him, 
embellished  with  a  quantity  of  threatening  gestures  : 
"  Thy  tongue  be  cut  out !  Thy  mother  was  a  liar,  and 
thy  father  likewise  !  These  beasts  I  bought  in  the  mar 
ket  to-day,  paying  for  them  in  the  gold  of  this  Frankish 
sheik  of  whom  I  am  his  dragoman!  " 

At  this  the  two  policemen  look  at  each  other  and 
then  at  the  two  women  and  Errol,  and  one  says  fiercely  : 
"  These  people  are  here  for  no  good  !  They  are  our 
enemies ! " 

And  the  other  replies  :  "  Let  us  drag  them  all  to  prison 
To-morrow  these  unbelieving  dogs  shall  have  Eastern 
justice! " 

However,  their  cause  is  in  Mr.  Osman  Ali's  hands,  and 
he  being  truly  anxious  to  save  his  prey  for  himself,  it  is 
not  likely  to  be  lost  for  want  of  any  of  the  delicate  di 
plomacy  of  the  East.  On  hearing  these  words,  the  drago 
man  instantly  steps  forward  and  producing  a  number  of 
gold  twenty-franc  pieces,  says  :  "  This  scamp's  words  are 


MR.    POTTER  OF  TEXAS.  *7 

as  deceitful  as  the  sands  of  the  desert !  The  donkeys  are 
mine  by  the  will  of  Allah !  " 

"  They  are  not  yours,  you  spawn  of  liars  !  "  cries 
the  boy.  "  They  belong  to  me,  by  Allah  !  They  know 
their  names  and  answer  to  my  voice.  One  is  called 
JBoozeh,  because  he  is  frisky  like  strong  liquor,  and  the 
other  is  named  Doorrah,  because  he  cries  like  a  parrot." 
With  this  the  boy  calls  out  loudly  :  "  Boozeh!"  "  Door- 
rah  !  "  and  the  beasts  put  their  heads  in  the  door,  and 
'whinny  and  bray  in  apparent  recognition. 

This,  however,  is  all  thrown  away  upon  the  Nubian 
policemen,  whose  eyes  have  never  lost  sight  of  the  money 
ever  since  Osman  has  produced  the  gold. 

These  coins  he  chinks  about  in  his  hand  and  goes  on 
quietly,  as  he  feels  pretty  sure  of  his  ground  now : 
"  That  the  boy  lies  is  proved  by  this  \  Is  it  likely  that  I, 
Osman  AH,  a  man  of  distinction  and  wealth —  '  here  the 
Armenian  drops  the  money  slowly  from  one  hand  to  the 
other,  every  chink  of  the  coins  being  responded  to  by  a 
greedy,  grasping,  dog-and-the-bone  glance  in  the  eyes  of 
the  two  guardians  of  the  law. 

"  Don't  look  at  his  gold  !  "  shrieks  the  Arab  gamin  in 
despair. 

"Wealth  so  grea';,"  continues  Osman  unmoved,  "that 
I  can  give  two  faithful  officers  of  the  law  a  thousand 
piastres  apiece  as  a  mere  matter  of  charity  and  good 
will — would  I  steal  a  couple  of  donkeys,  the  price  of 
which  is  to  me  as  the  dust  of  the  earth  ? "  And  saying 
this  he  drops  the  golden  shower  into  the  policemen's 
outstretched  hands. 

This  is  backed  up  and  enforced  by  Constantine  ef 
fusively  uttering,  "  And  you  know  me  also  !  I  am  Nic- 
covie,  whose  house  of  entertainment  has  given  you 
many  refreshing  drinks  and  will  give  you  many 
more,  please  Allah  !  This  man  is  Osman  Ali,  a  man 
whose  breath  smells  sweet  with  truth  like  the  roses  of 
Sophia  ! " 

"  Is  it  likely  that  I  should  be  a  thief  ? "  almost  sternly 
demands  the  dragoman  of  the  two  officers. 

"No;  Enfendi"  is  their  reply. 

At  this  moment  Constantine  suddenly  cries  out :  "Ah  f 
another  proof  of  innocence!  The  false  accuser  flies!" 
For  the  Arab  boy,  seeing  the  scales  of  justice  weighed 


MR.    POTTER  OF  TEXAS. 

Sudden  bolt  for 
This  unfortunate  is  now  seized  by  the  policemen,  and 
:>ne  of  them  whispers  in  an  undertone  to  Osman  as  they 
return  to  the  court-yard  dragging  the  urchin  with  them 

Now  this  affair  has  hardly  been  understood  by  Errol  or 
Lady  Annerley,  nearly  every  word  of  the  excited  con 
versation  being  in  Arab  dialect ;  and  the  dragoman 
hurriedly  explains  it  by  saying  that  the  avaricious  little 
spawn  of  the  streets  had  demanded  increased  payment 
for  his  donkeys,  and  he  had  given  a  couple  of  hundred 
francs  to  settle  the  matter,  an  elucidation  that  is  per 
fectly  consistent  with  the  gestures  used  and  the  money 
paid  on  the  occasion. 

Had  either  of  them  understood  it,  the  Arab  boy  would 
doubtless  have  fared  better,  as  the  argument  of  Mr 
Osman  would  have  scarcely  convinced  any  unprejudiced 
mind  of  his  innocence.  They  have  little  time  to  think 
over  the  matter,  however,  as  the  noise  from  the  populace 
about  the  harbor  becomes  greater,  and  a  battery  of  artil 
lery  rattles  hurriedly  down  the  street ;  one  of  the  English 
gun-boats  having  produced  an  excitement  by  throwing  up 
some  rockets  as  a  signal.  They  hurriedly  place  the  pro 
visions  upon  the  donkeys,  and  are  just  setting  out  when 
Osman  mutters  a  few  words  to  Errol  and  darts  back  into 
the  house  where  Constantine  Niccovie  still  remains 
he  neither  having  come  out  into  the  court-yard  nor  as 
sisted  in  loading  the  beasts  of  burden. 

T  "i°hA'  Why  d°es  he  keep  us  here  waiting  ? "  whispers 
Lady  Annerley,  who  has  become  nervously  anxious  ever 
since  the  policemen  have  made  their  appearance  "  Why 
has  that  man  gone  back  into  the  house  ?  " 

"  He  said  he  had  forgotten  the  key  to  Abdallah's,"  is 
Errol's  reply. 

"eThe  key?  Why,  I  saw  it  in  his  hand  ! "  she  goes 
on  impulsively,  and  then  suddenly  stops,  shivers  and  ex 
claims  :  « Oh,  heavens  !  What  is  that  ? "  For  from 
that  corner  of  the  little  court-yard  which  is  shrouded 
in  the  deepest  gloom  there  comes  a  sound  of  stifled 
sultermg,  and  then  a  shriek  of  intense  agony  such  as  this 
delicate  English  lady  has  never  heard  before. 

This  shriek  is  echoed  by  Martin,  whose  nervous  system, 
never  very  strong,  has  now  got  into  a  fearful  state. 


MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  2 

*  By  George  !  They  are  beating  somebody  !  "  says 
Errol. 

"  Oh !  it's  that  poor  little  Arab  boy  ! "  cries  Lady 
Annerley,  slipping  out  of  her  saddle.  "  Oh,  Mr.  Errol, 
hurry  !  Save  him  !  Save  him!  If  you  don't  I  must !  " 
For  here  another  cry  of  intense  anguish,  in  a  youngf 
fresh,  childish  voice,  cuts  into  the  still  night  air. 

Thus  adjured,  the  Australian  runs  to  the  far  corner  of 
the  court-yard,  and  finds  the  two  policemen,  after  the 
manner  of  Eastern  justice,  are  inflicting  a  summary 
bastinado  upon  the  feet  of  the  boy  who  has  accused  the 
dragoman ;  having  received  a  hint  from  Osman  to  that 
effect. 

Pie  pulls  them  away  and  cries,  "  Stop  ! "  which  they 
don't  understand,  and  gives  them  money  which  they 
think  they  do  comprehend,  for  the  next  instant  as  Errol 
turns  away  their  canes  are  beating  with  greater  vigor 
upon  ^  the  ^  upturned  soles  of  the  helpless  Arab  boy 
and  his  cries  are  more  piteous  than  ever  ;  for  cruelty 
to  another  is  often  purchased  in  the  East  •  mercv 
never ! 

Errol  hastily  dashes  one  of  the  torturers  aside,  and  is 

about  to  seize  the  other  when  Lady  Annerley  is  between 
him  and  the  man,  and  fighting  the  wretch  away  with  her 
delicate  hands,  bends  down  over  the  victim  of  their 
cruelty,  sobbing  herself  when  she  sees  the  little  sufferer's 
anguish. 

"  Lift  him  up  !  "  she  cries  to  Errol,  and  turning  to  the 
men  :  '|  Don't  you  touch  him  again,  or  I  will  kill  you  !  " 
There  is  something  in  her  spirit  that  makes  the  Nubians' 
eyes  droop  under  her  glance,  and  she  turns  again  to  the 
Australia^ and  begs  him  to  carry  the  boy  into  the  house  ; 
for  the  child's  eyes  are  closed  though  he  gives  out  faint 
gasps  and  sobs. 

"  I  could  not  go  away  from  him  without  seeing  how 
badly  he  is  hurt ! "  she  murmurs.  "  Please  bear  him 
gently." 

And  Errol  doing  her  bidding,  in  the  dingy  room  of 
the  dirty  cafa  this  great  English  lady,  unmindful  of  the 
dangers  of  the  night  and  place,  bends  over  and  revives 
with  strengthening  wine  and  kind  words  and  soothing 
gestures,  which  do  him  even  greater  good,  this  little  vie* 
tim  of  man's  injustice, 


3°  MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

The  young  man  looks  on  silently  a  moment,  and  mut 
tering,  She  is  braver  than  I  am,"  steps  out  to  Mr 

?a^  *°.  has  been  brouSht  in^o  sight  by  the  noise' 
antf  bids  him  see  that  the  policemen  go  away  at  once 
and  molest  the  boy  no  farther.  This  the  dragoman  with 
a  rather  shamed  face  does  at  once  ;  for  Osman  Ali  has 
some  doubts  of  how  much  his  master  guesses  of  the  truth 
of  this  affair. 

Meantime  Lady  Annerley,  calling  her  maid,  bandages 
with  her  own  handkerchief  the  bruised  feet  of  the  little 
boy,  who  looks  at  her  in  an  unbelieving  kind  of  way  with 
eyes  that  have  become  perhaps  too  knowing  in  his 
early  immature  struggle  for  existence.  And  the  tears 
fall  upon  him  from  the  beautiful  woman  who  is  bend 
ing  over  and  comforting  him  and  saying  kinder  words 
to  him  than  he  has  ever  heard  before  ;  for  this  Arab 
gamin  in  the  streets  of  Alexandria  has  picked  up  a  smat 
tering  of  most  languages,  English  among  the  rest. 

At  seeing  this  unusual  sight  Mr.  Constantine  Niccovie 
turns  away  with  a  shrug  of  his  huge,  stalwart  shoulders, 
for  the  Levantine  is  big  and  bony  in  stature  ;  while  Osman 
looks  at  Lady  Annerley  from  a  distance,  a  supercilious 
sneer  floating  now  and  again  over  his  delicate,  cunning- 
features,  as  he  thinks:  "  This  haughty  beauty  will  to-mor 
row  need  her  tears  for  herself ;  perhaps  even  she  may 
some  day  suffer  the  same  chastisement  as  this  boy  she 
comforts."  For  Mr.  Osman  Ali  in  his  Eastern  experi 
ences  has  discovered  that  the  bastinado  is  by  no  means 
banished  from  the  harems  of  the  great,  and  he  thinks 
that  f  things  go  to-morrow  as  they  should  do,  before 
long  this  beautiful  English  lady  may  be  one  of  the  veiled 
ones  in  the  zarina  of  a  great  pasha  who  lives  far  from 
civilization  and  who  is  very  rich  and  pays  immense  prices 
for  Prankish  odalisks.  For  with  all  his  acuteness  this 
Armenian  scoundrel  is  not  analyst  enough  to  know  that 
this  woman  he  speculates  upon  could  be  and  would  be  a 
slave  to  but  one  thing  upon  this  earth  ;  that  is  her  own 
passion. 

Thus  criticised  and  commented  upon,  Lady  Annerley 
continues  her  labor  of  mercy  until  the  little  sufferer's 
sobs  die  away,  and  he  looking  at  her  whispers  in  her 
ear  :  "  Backsheesh  Osman  stole  my  donkeys  ;  they  beat 
me  for  telling  Allah's  truth  !  " 


MR.    POTTER   OP   TEXAS.  Jl 

"  If  they  are  yours  they  shall  be  returned  to  you,"  an- 
swers  the  lady.  "  Do  you  know  the  house  of  Abdallab 
the  Moor?" 

The  little  fellow  nods  to  her  in  reply,  stifling  a  sigh. 

And  she,  knowing  she  can  trust  him,  says  :  "  Come  for 
them  to  his  house  to-morrow.  To-night  we  have  need  of 
them  !  "  With  this  she  slips  into  his  hand  a  lot  of  gold 
and  silver  change,  just  as  Errol  comes  to  her  and  says 
quietly  but  decidedly:  "My  lady,  we  must  wait  no 
longer." 

As  she  rises  from  the  little  boy's  side,  a  single  tear  that 
still  lingers  in  her  eye  falls  upon  his  upturned  face, 
which  never  ceases  to  watch  her  until  the  party,  headed 
as  before  by  Osman,  pass  out  into  the  darkness  of  the 
city.  Then  the  donkey  boy,  feeling  not  altogether  safe 
with  money  in  his  pocket  in  the  presence  of  Mr.  Con- 
stantine  Niccovie,  hobbles  groaning  and  staggering  with 
pain  into  the  darkness  also  ;  and  finding  a  sequestered 
corner  of  a  dirty  but  quiet  alley,  sobs  himself  to  sleep  ;  a 
subdued  pathetic  smile  coining  over  his  pale  suffering 
face  as  he  mutters  after  the  poetic  manner  of  his  people: 
"  The  tears  of  the  beautiful  Prankish  lady  are  pearls  on 
my  face." 

^  And  Sarah  Annerley  has,  in  her  five  minutes'  womanly 
kindness  for  this  poor  little  kick-about  ragamuffin  of  the 
streets  of  Alexandria,  done  a  better  stroke  of  work  for 
herself  than  even  she  dreams  of  or  imagines. 


CHAPTER  IIL 

THE     FIRST     GUN. 

TURNING  from  the  Ca/S  Sphinx,  the  English  party 
make  their  way  through  the  narrowest  streets  of  the 
Arab  portion  of  the  town,  for  Osman  thinks  it  best  to 
avoid  the  thoroughfares  which  become  more  crowded 
with  people  as  they  near  the  harbor.  The  dragoman 
leads  them  in  a  generally  northwestern  direction,  and 
after  dodging  across  the  larger  streets  of  La  Douane  and 
Manna,  in  a  little  time  they  come  to  the  house  of  Abdallah 
the  Moor,  which  is  situated  on  a  somewhat  broader  alley 


3*  IvlR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS. 

than  those  in  the  neighborhood,  and  just  where  the  Turk- 
ish  quarter  and  the  Arab  portion  of  the  town  meet  each 
other  In  the  darkness  Errol  can  only  see  that  the  ex 
terior  of  the  house,  which  is  of  model  ate  proportions  is 
Eastern  in  appearance  and  design. 

Osman  unlocks  and  opens  the  outer  door,  which  the 
Australian  notes  is  by  no  means  strong  enough  to  resist 
a  violent  attack,  as  its  woodwork  and  lock  are  old  and 
its  hinges  rusty.  Then  the  Armenian  lights  a  candle 
of  which  they  have  procured  a  stock  from  Niccovie  ;  by 
its  uncertain  flicker  they  grope  their  way  into  the  small 
arched  passage,  where  Errol  pauses  and  says  : 

"  From  this  time  on  I  am  commander  of  the  garrison 
and  I'll  have  the  obedience  of  martial  law.  Lock  that 
door,  Osman  !  " 

This  the  Armenian   does,  though  if  the  candle  were 
brighter  they  could  see  that  his  face  has  turned  pale. 
'  Now  give  me  that  key." 
"  Had  I  not  better  leave  it  in  the  lock  ?" 
1  No,  my  pocket  is  the  place  for  it !  " 
"  But  we  might  have  to  fly  from  here  in  a  hurry  J  " 
"  Give  me  that  key  !     Quick  !  "  and  there  is  a  menace 
in    Errors   voice    that    makes    the  Armenian   dragoman 
hasten  to  obey  ;  for  his  master  has  not  been  altogether 
pleased    with    certain    performances   of   Mr.    Backsheesh 
Osman  since  they  have  left  the  Hotel  de  1'Europe 

"  Now  go  ahead  with  the  light !  "  And  Osman  obeying, 
they  all  turn  to  the  right  and  in  a  step  or  two  emerge 
from  the  passage  into  a  small  court-yard,  which,  after  the 
style  of  most  Turkish  dwellings,  has  a  fountain  near  its 
center,  and  a  small  pagoda  or  summer  house  in  one 
corner. 

Here  Errol  tells  Lady  Annerley  and  her  maid  to  re 
main  upon  their  donkeys  until  he  and  Osman  see  if  the 
house  is  really  deserted.  Together  the  two  make  a  hasty 
examination  of  the  lower  floor  ;  and,  finding  no  one  in 
the  rooms  below,  he  bids  Osman  show  him  up  the  old- 
fashioned  stair-way  to  the  door  of  the  upper  floor,  which 
is  only  fastened  by  an  ancient  Egyptian  wooden  lock 
which  the  dragoman  soon  picks.  Then  the  two  men  dis 
appear,  and  the  two  women  wait  for  them  anxiously, 
listening  for  any  sound  from  above  that  may  indicate 
they  have  intruded  upon  a  Moslem  household. 


MR.   POTTER  OP  TEXAS.  33 

After  a  few  minutes  Krrol  returns  and  says  :  fl  I've 
looked  over  the  whole  establishment.  There's  nothing 
living  in  it  but  a  cat,  and  she  was  happy  to  see  us." 

And  he  assists  the  women  off  the  donkeys,  which  he 
leaves  to  contentedly  graze  about  the  court-yard  that  has 
a  few  blades  of  grass  growing  up  between  the  flags  with 
which  it  is  paved. 

Martin  is  about  to  enter  the  lower  floor  of  the  build 
ing,  but  Errol  says  :  "  Upstairs,  please  !  I  can  defend 
the  stair-way  in  case  of  attack  ;  besides,  the  rooms  are 
more  snug  above,  and  Osman,  who  is  a  useful  fellow,  is 
making  them  as  comfortable  as  possible  for  you." 

Then  he  assists  Lady  Annerley  up  the  old-fashioned 
stairs,  for  now  the  first  excitement  being  over  she  be 
comes  weak  and  faint,  and  ushers  her  into  the  Eastern 
apartments.  Here  she  turns  and  giving  him  a  little  laugh 
that  is  rather  forced,  says :  "  The  first  time  I  was  ever 
immured  in  an  Egyptian  harem  !  " 

To  which  Mr.  Osman,  who  has  been  making  the  place 
look  brighter,  having  kindled  a  charcoal  fire  in  a  brasier 
and  lit  enough  candles  to  give  a  pleasant  light,  comes 
forward  bowing  humbly,  and  remarks  :  "  The  harems  of 
believers  are  the  places  for  beauty." 

Perhaps  there  is  a  certain  sinister  expression  in  his 
glance  that  for  the  life  of  him  this  little  fiend  cannot 
conceal,  or  perhaps  some  latent  impertinence  in  his  smile  ; 
but  Lady  Annerley,  who  is  usually  kind  to  her  inferiors, 
draws  herself  up  haughtily  and  replies,  "  I  am  not  accus 
tomed  to  the  compliments  of  servants ;  "  while  Errol 
cries  out  at  him :  "  Hold  your  tongue,  Osman,  and 
get  coffee  and  something  to  eat  !  "  Which  the  Oriental 
does  with  a  rapidity  that  is  simply  wonderful,  bring- 
ing  up  the  provisions  that  they  have  brought  with 
them,  and  levying  upon  certain  stores  of  dainties  he 
finds  left  in  the  house,  with  an  unscrupulous  vigor  that 
very  greatly  disgusts  Abdallah  the  Moor  upon  his  return 
to  his  home  some  weeks  afterward.  Consequently  in  a 
few  minutes,  during  which  Errol  has  arranged  the  rooms 
so  as  to  give  Lady  Annerley  and  her  attendant  as  much 
privacy  as  is  consistent  with  his  plans  for  tLdr  safety, 
Mr.  Osman  AH  gives  a  salam  and  announces,  "  Sahib, 
Allah  has  given  us  plenty."  Then  the  whole  four  without 
ceremony.  Lady  Annerley  seated  on  a  divan,  and  waited 


34  MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

on  by  her  maid  and  Mr.  Ei-rol,  and  the  Armenian  taking 
good  care  of  himself  in  a  corner,  do  justice  to  the  good 
things  the  dragoman  has  provided. 

Toward  the  conclusion  of  this  Lady  Annerley  sud 
denly  says  with  a  smile  :  "Mr,  Errol,  I  don't  object  to 
cigar  smoke." 

"  A-ah  !     Why  did  you  think  I  wished  a  weed  ?" 
This  is  answered  by  a  tittle  laugh  from  the  lady,  who 
gives  a  kind  of  roguish  glance  at  something  the  young 
man  has  taken  abstractedly  from  his  pocket ;  and  look 
ing  down,  Charley  Errol  finds  it  is  a  cigar-case. 

"  By  George  ! "  he  exclaims,  "  pardon  the  force  of 
habit,"  and  is  about  to  replace  the  article. 

"  I  will  pardon  the  force  of  habit  when  you  carry  the 
force  of  habit  to  its  legitimate  end/' 
"How  is  that?" 
"  Enjoy  your  Havana  at  once  ! " 
As  Errol  lights  up  and  puffs  the  cigar  smoke  about 
him  he  thinks  to  himself,  in  a  dreamy  way  -for  he  is  be 
coming  very  sleepy — she  looks  like  a  beautiful  Eastern 
picture,  surrounded  as  she  is  by  the  Moorish  interior,  its 
divans,  rugs  and  tessellated  walls,  with  their  latticed 
windows,  and   Osman  squatted  in  Turkish  fashion  as 
a  background. 

The  next  instant  his  eye  catches  something  that 
makes  him  wake  up  with  a  start ;  he  seizes  his  cigar- 
case,  examines  it  hurriedly,  and  says  in  a  very  gloomy 
manner:  "There  are  only  three  left." 

"  Three  what?  "  suddenly  asks  Lady  Annerley,  who  is 
alarmed  at  the  seriousness  of  his  tone. 

"Three  cigars!     And  this  siege  may  last  a  week. 
Fm  in  a  deuce  of  a  fix,"  mutters  Errol,  rather  savagely. 
"  But  you  can  get  plenty  to-morrow — I  mean  to-day/' 
suggests  his  questioner,  consulting  her  watch. 

"Impossible  !  If  a  shop  could  be  found  open,  I  dare 
not  take  the  risk  of  being  followed  on  returning  to 
this  house  with  you  here." 

"  I — I  am  afraid  you  mean  that  for  a  reproach  ;  that 
you  feel  burdened  by  the  care  of  me."  mutters  Lady 
Annerley,  turning  away  with  a  little  sigh. 

"  Do  I  look  like  one  of  that  kind  ? "  answers  Errol,  im 
pulsively  turning  her  toward  him.  "  No  !  but  I  feel  my 
responsibility  too  strongly  to  risk  bringing  danger  upon 


MR,   POTTER  OF  TEXA*  $f 

you  for  any  selfish  want  of  mine— even  a  cigar.     Don't 
you  believe  me  and — trust  me  ? " 

"  With  my  whole  heart.  God  bless  you  ! "  As  she  says 
these  words  some  unknown  impulse  or  emotion  seizes 
this  woman  whom  all  call  haughty,  and  she  tries  to  take 
the  young  man's  hand  and  kiss  it  in  a  contrite,  humble, 
ashamed  sort  of  way  that  astounds  him. 

"  Pough  !  "  he  cries,  trying  to  make  light  of  his  service 
though  blushing  with  embarrassment,  and  perhaps  with 
pleasure,  for  Lady  Annerley  looks  even  more  beautiful 
when  tender  than  when  cold.  "/  should  be  the  grateful 
one.  Look  what  your  money  has  brought  us — comfort, 
and,  I  hope,  safety."  He  glances  about  the  apartment. 
"  Now,  let's  get  settled  for  the  night.  Twenty-eight 
hours,  and  hardly  a  wink  since  Cairo." 

Errol  emphasizes  this  remark  with  a  fearful  yawn,  sleep 
having  got  the  better  of  etiquette,  and  makes  the  neces 
sary  arrangements  for  the  disposition  of  the  party  until 
daylight. 

There  are  four  principal  rooms  upon  this  floor  of  the 
house.  Lady  Annerley  and  her  maid  are  to  occupy  the 
two  to  the  left  of  the  apartment  they  are  now  in  ;  he  will 
sleep  at  the  head  of  the  stairs  leading  from  the  court 
yard  which  enters  this  one  ;  and  Osman  Ali  shall  have 
the  other  and  smaller  one  on  the  right,  an  arrangement 
which  pleases  the  Armenian  though  he  does  not  say  so  ; 
for  connected  with  his  apartment  is  a  small  stairway  and 
little  door,  opening  into  the  street,  which  is  common  to 
most  Turkish  dwellings  for  the  private  use  of  the  master 
.  of  the  house.  This  opening  is  concealed  by  several  very 
heavy  tapestries,  but  the  dragoman,  knowing  the  usual 
construction  of  Eastern  mansions,  has  already  discovered 
its  location  and  thinks  it  may  be  useful  to  him. 

Mr.  Osman  immediately  prevents  any  rearrangement 
of  the  party  by  retiring  to  his  room  with  an  Oriental  sa- 
lam.  Lady  Annerley  and  her  maid  betake  themselves  to 
the  divans  and  rugs  of  their  apartments,  Errol  charging  her 
as  she  leaves  him  to  be  sure  and  let  him  know  if  anything 
disturbs  her  in  the  night ;  the  lamps  are  extinguished 
save  one  that  dimly  illuminates  the  large  room  which 
Errol  occupies  ;  darkness  and  silence  are  again  upon  the 
Moorish  house. 

All  are  asleep  except  the  great  English  lady,  who  has 


36  MR.   POTTER  OF   TEXAS. 

something  on  her  mind  that  makes  her  sigh  and  moan 
and  writhe  as  she  tosses  about  upon  her  luxurious  divan, 
and  envy  the  regular  breathing  of  Martin,  who  is  sleep 
ing  the  sleep  of  the  just  and  the  lazy.  The  tension  of 
her  brain  increases  the  acuteness  of  her  nerves — hear 
ing,  seeing,  and  all  her  senses  become  more  powerful  and 
more  delicate.  So  it  comes  to  pass  that  after  an  hour  or 
two  of  excited  meditation  Lady  Annerley  feels  sure  she 
hears  a  noise  coming  from  one  of  the  two  rooms  to  the 
right  of  hers.  She  says  nothing  to  Martin,  not  wishing  to 
alarm  her,  and  passes  quietly  into  the  large  apartment 
occupied  by  Errol.  This  is  silent,  but  after  listening  a 
moment  she  thinks  she  hears  the  noise  of  a  closing  door 
coming  from  the  chamber  of  the  Armenian.  To  the  en 
trance  of  this  room  she  passes  ;  but  after  waiting  there 
some  little  time  hears  no  noise,  thinks  it  all  must  be  her 
imagination,  and  is  about  to  return  to  her  own  room,  when 
remembering  Errol's  injunction,  she  turns  to  him  to  tell 
him  what  she  has  heard,  and  sees  him  by  the  pale  light  of 
the  Turkish  lamp  lying  across  the  doorway,  his  arms 
ready  for  service,  the  rifle  under  his  head,  and  his  re 
volver  grasped  in  his  right  hand  as  he  sleeps. 

His  breathing  has  the  deep  regularity  of  extreme  ex 
haustion,  and  she  hesitates  to  awake  him,  thinking  the 
noise  she  heard  is  but  a  creation  of  her  imagination.  She 
will  wait  and  warn  him  if  she  hears  anything  more,  and 
she  seats  herself  at  his  head  and  looks  at  him,  thinking 
what  a  fine  picture  the  young  fellow  makes  with  his  six 
feet  of  manly  beauty  ;  but  here  she  starts,  for  he  is  mut 
tering  in  his  sleep  of  his  home  and  friends  in  far-away 
Australia,  and  is  saying  kind  things  to  his  dear  old 
father. 

At  this  the  tears  come  into  Sarah  Annerley's  eyes  ;  she 
moans  to  herself  :  "  His  father  for  my  father— perhaps 
now  his  life  to  save  mine.  How  shall  I  tell  him  now  when 
I  like  him  so  much  as  a — friend  !  "  And  sitting  in  this 
meditation,  she  hardly  notes  that  time  passes  by ;  that 
the  morning  light  comes  in  the  little  Moorish  windows, 
the  birds  chirp  and  sing  in  the  court-yard,  and  the  tired 
Egyptian  donkeys  bray  and  whinny  outside  as  if  hint 
ing  at  breakfast,  and  all  becomes  bright  and  cheerful 
and  sunny,  until  something  breaks  the  stillness  of  the 
scene  with  one  tremendous  startling  crash,  and  a  con- 


MR.    POTTER  OF   TEXAS.  37 

cussion  that  makes  the  house  shake  and  tremble  like 
an  earthquake,  and  destroys  the  sounds  of  waking  life  in 
happy  nature.  With  a  wild  cry  Martin  runs  into  the 
room.  There  is  a  howl  of  agony  from  the  roof  to  which 
the  Armenian  had  gone  to  say  his  prayers,  looking  to 
Mecca,  Allah  and  the  rising  sun ;  and  Errol,  springing 
up,  cries  :  "  By  George  !  the  first  gun  in  the  bombardment 
of  Alexandria  !  " 

Osman's  cry  from  the  roof  attracts  Errol.  He  hastily 
ascends  and  looks  out  ;  then,  after  a  moment,  returns 
and  says  :  "  Lady  Annerley,  come  up — quick  !  " 

"  There  is  no  great  danger,  I  suppose  ? " 

"  No  more  than  down  here,"  and  he  assists  her  up  the 
narrow  step-ladder  leading  to  the  roof,  and  as  she  looks 
out  over  the  scene  that  from  their  elevation  is  disclosed 
to  them,  he  cries  in  her  ear,  for  the  thunder  of  the  guns 
is  now  deafening  :  "  Is  that  not  a  sight  worth  the  risk  of 
life  to  see  ? " 

"  Yes,"  returns  this  English  lady,  who  has  never  seen 
war  before,  "beautiful  and  grand  !  " 

And  so  at  this  moment  it  is  to  Sarah  Annerley  beauti 
ful  and  grand  ;  the  horror  of  it  came  to  her  afterward. 

To  her  right,  slightly  receding  from  a  straight  line, 
but  all  the  time  running  out  toward  the  sea,  is  the  Cape 
of  Ras-el-Tin  ;  in  its  foreground  the  Arsenal,  but  further 
on,  it  is  lined  with  batteries  that  end  in  the  great  Pharos 
Fort,  and  the  lighthouse  upon  Point  Eunostos.  Behind 
these  are  the  walls,  minarets  and  sloping  roofs  of  the 
Khedive's  palace  and  this  monarch's  prison  for  female 
loveliness  gathered  from  the  four  corners  of  the  earth 
to  satiate  his  passions,  called  the  Harem.  Their  sur 
rounding  gardens  of  tropical  trees,  flowers  and  fruits, 
their  Oriental  architecture  give  them  a  graceful  Eastern 
beauty  in  keeping  with  the  romantic  names  of  their 
location,  the  gardens  being  called  in  the  metaphor  of 
the  East  "  The  Abode  of  Pomegranates,"  and  the  prom 
ontory  "  The  Cape  of  Figs."  From  almost  her  feet  the 
quays  and  landing  places  of  the  town,  called  "  The 
Marina,"  run  in  a  graceful  curve  far  to  the  left,  which 
suddenly  changes  to  an  almost  straight  line,  then  darts 
out  toward  the  sea,  becoming  a  series  of  forts  and  bat 
teries  after  it  passes  the  long  pier  or  mole  which  divides 
the  inner  from  the  outer  harbor.  The  nearest  of  these 


3&  MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS, 

forts  to  her  is  Gabari,  then  Silese,  beyond  these  Massa- 
el-Kanat,  and  the  Meks  Fort  and  batteries ;  and  still 
farther  out  to  sea  Adjemi  and  the  Marabout  fortifica 
tions  commanding  the  channel  of  that  name,  which  is  the 
largest,  deepest  and  safest  entrance  to  the  roadstead  of 
Alexandria,  and  scattered  all  over  the  picture  windmills 
— windmills  everywhere  ! 

Between  these  two  great  lines  of  fortifications  lies 
straight  before  her  the  inner  and  outer  harbor  of  the 
town.  The  inner,  bereft  of  shipping  save  a  few  Egyp 
tian  coasters,  Mahmudiyeh  Canal  and  Nile  boats,  whose 
white  lateen  sails  give  picturesque  romance  to  the  scene, 
is  quiet,  calm  and  peaceful  as  an  Italian  lake  ;  the  outer, 
torn  up  and  churned  into  foam  with  flying  shot  and  shell, 
and  covered  with  the  iron-clads  of  England,  their  decks 
cleared  for  action,  their  heavy  masts  and  yards  made  to 
look  more  powerful  and  massive  by  being  relieved  of  all 
their  light  rigging  and  loftier  spars,  their  tops  filled  with 
men  and  machine  and  rapid  firing  guns,  and  their  great 
turrets  or  black  broadsides  wreathed  in  the  smoke  and 
flame  of  their  enormous  cannon,  is  a  picture  of  grand, 
awful,  annihilating  modern  war.  The  town,  shore,  ^bat 
teries,  Khedive's  palace  and  Harem  are  picturesque, 
Eastern  and  ancient,  and  fly  the  flag  of  the  Crescent  of 
Allah  ;  the  ships  of  war  are  ugly,  Western  and  mod 
ern,  and  fight  under  the  Union  Jack  of  England  which 
contains  the  Cross  of  Christ ;  and  both  are  going  to  do 
some  very  savage,  cruel  and  devilish  work  beneath  these 
banners. 

There  are  four  of  these  floating  instruments  of  destruc 
tion  bombarding  the  Meks  batteries,  and  though  they 
are  not  all  in  full  sight,  from  their  position  Errol  judges 
about  the  same  number  are  at  work  upon  the  batteries  of 
Ras-el-Tin  and  the  Pharos  Fort.  Fort  Ada,  whose  guns 
can  be  heard  nearly  north  of  them,  is  entirely  out  of  their 
view. 

Far  down  the  bay,  opposite  the  Marabout  batteries, 
can  be  seen  several  small  gun-boats  preparing  to  make  an 
attack  upon  them,  and  about  mid-way  from  the  Meks  and 
Pharos  Forts  lies  a  broad  black  British  iron-clad,  very 
large,  but  floating  low  in  the  water,  having  upon  her  deck 
en  tchclon  two  great  black  turrets.  Not  being  at  anchor 
she  is  about  to  fight  under  headway,  and  what  is  techni- 


MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS.  39 

cally  called  "  bow  on."  All  this  is  perfectly  apparent  to 
both  Lady  Annerley  and  Charley  Errol,  that  young  man 
having  carried  with  him  all  through  the  preceding  night 
with  British  bulldog  tenacity  a  large  field  glass  such  as  de 
notes  the  traveling  Englishman  the  world  over,  and  which 
he  now  brings  to  bear  upon  the  scene  before  them,which  as 
yet  is  unobscured  with  smoke  and  is  lighted  up,  illumined 
and  made  brilliant  by  the  rising  sun  of  Egypt,  hot  and 
blazing  to-day  as  it  is  far  to  the  south,  where  it  is  burn 
ing  out  the  lives  of  travelers  upon  the  deserts. 

A  little  farther  out  to  sea  beyond  the  big  iron-clad  is  a 
much  smaller  man-of-war,  which  appears  to  be  nearly  as 
much  in  danger  as  the  larger  one,  though  evidently  not 
in  action.  This  produces  an  exclamation  of  surprise 
from  Errol,  who,  after  examining  her  attentively  with 
the  glass  cries  :  "  Wheugh  !  Here's  Yankee  curiosity  ! 
Brother  Jonathan's  risking  death  to  see  what's  going 
on  !  "  For  the  vessel  he  is  looking  at  flies  the  American 
flag,  and  is  there  to  save  life,  not  to  destroy  it,  though 
the  excitement  of  her  officers  has  run  the  ship  into  the 
range  of  the  Egyptian  batteries,  which  are  now  returning 
rapidly  and  regularly  in  one  continuous  echoing  roar  the 
fire  of  the  English  guns. 

A  second  after  this  Lady  Annerley,  chancing  to  look  at 
the  large  English  iron-clad  with  the  great  black  turrets, 
exclaims  :  "  What  is  that  big  fat  ship  doing  ?  She's  — 

But  her  words  are  annihilated  as  almost  her  senses,  for 
there  comes  into  the  air  a  crashing  roar  that  dominates 
and  makes  seem  silent  the  thunder  of  all  the  other  guns  ; 
a  hustling,  howling  shriek  such  as  is  sometimes  heard 
in  tropic  hurricanes  yells  through  the  place  ;  the  houses 
of  the  town  rock  as  in  the  cradle  of  an  earthquake  as 
all  their  windows  fall  crashing  inward,  while  from  an 
Egyptian  battery  a  cloud  of  dust,  sand  and  masonry  flies 
up  as  if  a  gigantic  volcano  had  opened  its  crater  beneath 
the  Moslem  works. 

After  a  moment  Lady  Annerley  whispers  with  white 
lips,  for  all  the  other  guns  have  become  for  the  second 
still,  as  if  in  silent  terror  of  this  new  thing  they  feel  their 
master  :  "  What  awful  noise  was  that  ?" 

And  Errol,  who  has  now  recovered  his  speech,  answers  : 
"That  was  the  first  eighty-ton  gun  fired  in  war.  By 
George  !  that  vessel  over  there  must  be  the  Inflexible" 


4°  MR.    POTTER    OF   TEXAS. 

This  eighty-ton  horror  is  too  much  for  Mr.  Osman 
AH,  who  has  been  trying  to  force  himself  to  regard  the 
bombardment  with  a  supercilious  Egyptian  smile,  though 
at  times  his  teeth  have  chattered.  The  Armenian  now 
bolts  down  the  stairway  and  hides  himself  in  the  cellar 
Martin  who  has  so  far  occupied  the  second  floor  in  a 
kind  of  comatose  state,  from  which  every  now  and  again 
she  has  seemed  to  wake  to  give  sometimes  a  shriek,  some 
times  a  prayer,  now  sets  up  a  cry  of  such  plaintive  de 
spair  that  Lady  Annerley  thinks  she  is  dying  and  o-oes 
down  to  comfort  her. 

Errol  alone  occupies  the  roof,  and  the  smoke  not  being- 
as  yet  too  dense,  directs  his  glass  toward  the  Mara 
bout  batteries  far  down  the  bay,  and  sees  something 
there  that  interests  him  so  much  he  does  not  notice 
that  Lady  Annerley  has  returned  to  his  side,  until  she 
shouts  at  him,  for  the  firing  is  now  at  its  height  and  the 
roar  and  racket  tremendous  :  "  What  excites  you  so 
much  ? " 

"I'm  just  looking  at  one  of  the  pluckiest  things  done 
at  any  time  in  any  war  !  " 

"  What's  that  ?     Show  me  !  " 

"  Look  !  "  cries  Errol,  giving  her  the  glass  "  The 
chap  who  commands  that  vessel  will  get  the  V  C  if  he 
lives  through  this." 

And  the  English  lady  can  see  a  little  gun-boat  unas 
sisted  and  alone  steaming  into  close  range  of  the  power 
ful  batteries  and  big  forts  of  the  Marabout  Channel. 

"  She'll  be  blown  to  pieces  !  "  screams  Lady  Annerley 
who  has  seen  enough  to  know  that  the  Egyptian  guns 
are  being  well  served  this  day. 

"  Yes,  if  they  hit  at  their  first  fire  ;  if  not  she  may  have 
the  best  of  it.  Her  commander  has  brains  as  well  as 
courage,"  says  Errol,  and  explains  to  his  listener  that  a 
light-draught  gun-boat  may  get  so  close  to  the  forts  that 
they  cannot  depress  their  guns  sufficiently  to  hit  her  ;  then 
she  will  be  comparatively  safe.  After  a  moment  there  is 
a  tremendous  salvo  of  artillery  from  the  Egyptian  bat 
teries,  and  peering  through  the  smoke,  Lady  Annerley 
cries  in  a  voice  hoarse  with  horror:  " They've  sunk 
her  !  Heaven  forgive  them  !  " 

But  Errol,  seizing  the  glass  from  her,  the  next  second 
shrieks  :  "  By  Heaven,  she's  safe  !  I  see  her  masts  right 


MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS  4! 

alongside  the  Moslem  guns.  Give  it  to  them  !  Blow  'em 
to  the  devil,"  dancing  about  and  shrieking  in  excitement 
at  the  English  tars  as  if  they  could  hear  him  miles  away, 
through  all  the  clang  and  roar  of  a  hundred  guns.  For 
this  young  man  has  got  the  lunacy  of  battle  upon  him  now, 
and  uses  words  and  expressions  in  his  frenzy  that  the 
lady  by  his  side  would  reprove  if  she  were  not  as  excited 
herself. 

Whether  the  tars  on  the  distant  gun-boat  hear  Errol  or 
not,  they  act  as  if  they  do  ;  and  from  each  of  her  top? 
such  a  storm  of  bullets  flies  into  the  Moslem  batteries, 
whose  big  guns  cannot  be  trained  effectively  upon  th* 
vessel  below  them,  that  they  drive  the  Arab  artillery-me^ 
from  their  works. 

At  which  the  Australian  hurrahs  himself  hoarse  and 
cries  :  "  By  George  !  I'd  much  sooner  stand  against  the 
household  troops  armed  with  the  muskets  with  which 
they  downed  Bonaparte  at  Waterloo  than  against  those 
few  sailors  and  the  inventions  of  Messrs.  Gatling  and 
Hotchkiss  mounted  on  that  vessel." 

Then  the  two  Anglo-Saxons  rejoice  together  in  the  tri 
umph  of  their  countrymen  and  Errol  cries  out  enthusias 
tically  :  "  I'll  shake  hands  with  the  gallant  fellow  who 
commands  that  ship  after  this  is  all  over  !  "  Next  pauses 
and  mutters  to  himself,  "  Perhaps  !  "  for  he  feels  that  the 
English  captain's  chance  of  life  under  the  fire  of  the 
Egyptian  guns  is  better  than  his,  penned  in  this  town  sur 
rounded  by  Moslem  fanatics. 

"  I  know  what  makes  you  solemn  !  "  cries  Lady  Anner- 
ley  coming  to  his  side.  "  Is  it  not  awful  !  You  have 
seen  some  of  the  wounded  ;  so  have  I.  There  they  are  !  " 
And  she  points  to  a  stream  of  men,  some  limping,  some 
staggering  along,  others  borne  on  litters,  their  uniforms 
bloody,  their  limbs  bandaged,  that  begins  to  appear  on 
the  street  "  Ras-el-Tin,"  leading  from  the  forts  and  bat 
teries  at  Pharos  and  Ada.  Now  that  it  has  commenced 
this  stream  never  ceases,  but  all  the  day  gradually  be 
comes  larger  and  larger,  until,  though  it  has  begun  with 
groups  of  twos  and  threes,  it  ends  in  the  steady  march  of  a 
horrible  column  from  whose  ranks  come  the  groans,  cries, 
and  shrieks  of  suffering  humanity. 

So  they  go  to  the  rear  of  the  house  again,  where  they 
•*.re  protected  from  view  by  a  low  parapet,  and  look  at  the 


42  MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS. 

bombardment,  which  becomes  more  and  more  awful  eaf 
minute. 

Midway  between  the  two  squadrons  lies  the  low,  big 
iron-clad,  swinging  her  bow  first  to  the  one  side  and  then 
to  the  other,  as  she  with  awful  impartiality  fires  her  im 
mense  annihilating  missiles  from  her  starboard  turret  into 
Meks  and  her  port  turret  into  the  Pharos  and  Lighthouse 
Forts. 

The  position  of  the  Moorish  house  enables  Lady  An- 
nerley  to  look  behind  the  batteries  on  this  part  of  the 
Cape  Ras-el-Tin,  and  gazing  there  as  one  of  these  awful 
shells  comes  into  the  doomed  Lighthouse  Fort  she  drops 
the  glass,  gives  a  cry  of  horror,  and  would  perhaps  fall 
did  not  Errol  support  her  as  she  gasps  :  "  All !  All !  It  is 
too  horrible  !" 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  inquires  the  young  man. 
"I  mean,"  she  says,  steadying  herself,  "that  that 
shell  after  going  through  the  masonry  of  that  fort  struck 
one  of  the  great  guns  upon  its  muzzle  and  threw  it  over 
upon  the  men  working  it  ;  they  are  now  writhing,  crushed 
beneath  it.  There  were  twenty-five.  I  had  counted  them 
before,  and  not  one  went  away  after  that  shot,  not  one ! 
Oh,  that  awful  ship  is  going  to  fire  again  !  Take  me 
from  the  sight.  I  hate— I  loathe  the  cruel  flag  she  car 
ries  !  "  And  this  gentle  English  woman,  forgetting  her 
love  of  nation  in  her  love  of  man,  shudders  and  raves  at 
this  ship  whose  guns  kill  so  many. 

Looking  at  the  destruction  of  these  gigantic  shells, 
Errol  mutters  :  "  This  thing  can't  last  long."  But  here  he 
is  mistaken. 

Arabi  with  Oriental  cunning  has  placed  at  these  guns 
artillery  regiments  from  Upper  Egypt  composed  of  fierce 
Nubian  blacks  and  dauntless  Arabs  of  the  Soudan,  bar 
barians  who  value  their  lives  so  little,  perchance  because 
they  have  so  little  to  make  their  lives  of  value. 

And  these  men,  equally  careless  whether  death  comes 
to  them  by  the  naked  steel  of  single  combat,  or  the  dis 
tant  lightnings  of  modern  artillery,  stand  to  their  guns 
and  fight  and  die,  and  still  fight  on  because  they  are 
Moslem  and  their  enemies  infidels ;  and  their  faith 
teaches  them  they  step  with  death  from  the  Egyptian 
battlements  into  the  Paradise  of  Allah  and  the  arms  of 
the  houris  of  Mohammed. 


MR,    POTTER   OF    TEXAS.  43 

A-nd  so  the  scene  goes  on  to  its  grand  and  awful  cli 
max  ;  great  rents  now  appear  in  the  Lighthouse  Fort  and 
the  batteries  about  it.  The  Khedive's  palace  begins  to 
burn  ,-  while  over  all,  drifting  in  upon  the  wind,  comes 
a  dense  cloud  of  cannon  smoke  that  settles  down  upon 
the  batteries  and  town,  till  it  is  as  if  the  place  were  in  a 
great  thick  fog,  through  which  none  can  see  but  only 
hear  ;  for  the  ceaseless  roar  of  cannon  still  crashes  cruel 
as  before,  a/id  all  the  time  the  stream  of  wounded  from 
the  Pharos  Fort  becomes  denser  and  denser,  and  wilder 
screams  and  deeper  groans  rend  the  air. 

And  as  the  smoke  drifts  in  and  in,  burying  the  place 
from  view,  the>  linglish  guns  lose  their  accuracy  of  aim, 
and  every  now  and  then  shells  come  shrieking  and  moan 
ing  over  the  two  watchers'  heads  and  burst  in  the 
crowded  streets  ot  the  town,  making  its  populace  wild 
with  rage  or  frenzied  with  fear.  But  nothing  seems  to 
drive  the  Arab  gunners  from  their  posts  ;  and  with  dis 
mounted  cannon,  crumbling  bastions,  and  death  and 
carnage  all  about  tLem,  these  barbarians  still  fight  and 
die  for  Allah  and  the  £aith. 

This  hearing  without  seeing  makes  the  day  more  awful. 
As  Errol  gropes  his  wdy  through  the  smoke  to  the  little 
stair-way,  and  half  carrier  Lady  Annerley  to  the  rooms 
below,  she  gasps  to  him  .-  "  Please  light  the  lamps.  In 
this  darkness  I  shall  see  it  over  again.  Oh,  the  cruelty 
of  that  ship  !  " 

For  the  immense  destruction  done  by  the  pride  of  the 
British  navy,  which  the  world  who  did  not  see  it  has  ap 
plauded  and  called  great,  causes  to  the  woman  who  has 
seen  its  fearful  carnage  nothing  but  shuddering,  sickening 
horror. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

THE   OATH    OF    THE    ARAB    BOY. 

ERROL  leaves  Lady  Annerley  sitting  pale  and  dazed, 
listening  to  the  crash  of  guns  she  cannot  see,  and  find 
ing  his  way  to  the  cellar,  drags  out  the  Armenian  and 
says  to  him,  "  Coffee  !  " 


44  MR.    POTTER    OP    TEXAS. 

"  Not  while  the  cannons  fire  ;  the  danger  is  too 
supreme  ! " 

"  Coffee,  you  miserable  coward  !  "  and  the  Englishman 
kicks  his  dragoman  upstairs. 

These  kind  of  kicks  have  cost  many  Englishmen  their 
lives  :  they  have  kicked  Indians  in  the  old  days  in  Amer 
ica  and  repented  of  it  ;  they  have  kicked  Zulus  in  Africa 
and  been  sorry  for  what  they  have  done  ;  they  have 
kicked  Hindoos  and  Chinamen  in  the  far  East  and  have 
died  for  their  trouble  ;  but  still  in  their  blundering 
Anglo-Saxon  way  they  will  keep  on  kicking  "niggers" 
until  the  end  of  the  world. 

However,  Osman  only  answers  with  a  snarl,  and  flying 
from  the  present  danger  of  the  Australian's  foot  into  the 
distant  danger  of  the  Englishmen's  cannon,  proceeds  to 
do  as  he  is  told. 

The  coffee  revives  and  makes  them  feel  better ;  they 
all  contrive  to  eat  a  little,  and  Errol  enjoys  the  last  of 
his  three  cigars  ;  for  the  young  man  has  contrived  to 
dispose  of  the  other  two  during  his  morning  view  of  the 
bombardment ;  great  excitement  generally  giving-  in 
creased  smoking  capacity  to  the  devotees  at  the  shrine 
of  nicotine.  Then  the  thunder  from  the  guns  having 
died  out  in  the  direction  of  the  Meks  Fort,  the  noise  be 
ing  not  so  deafening,  Errol  hears  the  donkeys  bray  in  the 
court-yard,  and  thinks  they  too  may  be  hungry  and  per 
haps  thirsty,  for  the  fountain  is  not  playing  outside  to 
day.  Having  an  Englishman's  love  for  the  horse,  and 
including  asses  in  the  same  category,  he  hurries  down  to 
look  after  the  beasts,  and  finding  some  fodder  in  the  de 
serted  donkey  stable  attached  to  the  house — for  Abdal- 
lah,  like  most  Moors,  enjoyed  this  means  of  locomotion 
—he  gives  them  their  food  ;  but  when  he  turns  to  the 
fountain  to  let  on  the  water  he  gets  a  start,  for  he  dis 
covers  that  the  pipe  has  been  cut.  Whether  this  has 
happened  by  accident  or  design  he,  of  course,  cannot 
tell,  but  it  is  a  serious  matter  in  this  hot  tropical  climate, 
and  he  goes  upstairs  at  once  to  see  how  great  the  supply 
is  in  the  upper  rooms.  This,  he  is  relieved  to  find,  is 
ample  for  several  days,  as  the  mushrebiyehs,  or  little 
latticed  balconies  of  the  house,  contain  several  porous 
earthen  jars  of  water  placed  there  after  the  Turkish  cus 
tom  to  cool. 


MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS.  45 

Charging  them  all  to  be  very  careful  not  to  waste  this 
water,  he  carries  some  of  it  down  to  the  donkeys,  who 
whinny  their  pleasure  as  they  drink  it. 

While  doing  this  his  attention  is  called  to  the  smoke 
that  still  obscures  everything  about  him,  even  in  the 
court-yard  ;  this  smoke  upon  the  side  nearest  the  town 
has  become  yellow  and  golden.  He  goes  to  the  door  lead 
ing  to  the  street,  opens  it  a  little  to  look  out  and  dis 
cover  the  cause  of  this  ;  and  as  he  does  so  gets  a  sensa 
tion,  for  a  soft  Eastern  voice  says  in  very  bad  English  : 
"  Me  come  along  for  the  donkeys  of  mine  !  " 

"All  right,"  returns  Errol,  ^D  whom  Lady  Annerley 
has  told  what  passed  between  her  and  the  Arab  boy. 
"  Come  in,  quick  !  " 

Then  the  urchin  of  the  streets  accepts  the  invitation, 
and  astonishes  Errol  as  he  whispers  : 

u  No  care  for  donkeys— donkeys  all  right — lady, 
beautiful  lady,  all  wrong  !  You  have  bad  man  up 
stairs  ! " 

"  Bad  man  ?     Whom  do  you  mean  ?     Osman  ? 

"  Backsheesh  Osman." 

«  A— ah  !  " 

"  Him  go  out  last  night !  " 

"  Last  night  ?  Impossible  !  I  had  the  key  in  my 
pocket ! " 

"  Him  go  out  last  night  !  Me  see  him.  My  feet  not 
let  me  sleep  much,"  returns  the  Arab  urchin,  sitting 
down  on  the  porter's  bench  near  the  door  and  caressing 
the  parts  afflicted. 

"  You  are  sure  you  saw  him  ?  " 

"  Sure  !     Him  come  to  talk  to  other  bad  man." 

"  What  other  bad  man  ?  " 

"  Constantine,  the  Greek  liar  !  " 

"  Constantine  Niccovie  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Giaour  !    Too  many  people  in  the  house.    Back 
sheesh  and  the  Greek  come  out  and  talk  in  the  street, 
lie  in  the  darkness  and  hear  them  talk  of  the  English 
houri  whose  tears  fall  like  pearls." 

"  Well,  what  did  they  say  ? "  • 

"  Backsheesh  say,  '  The  English  dog,  him  whose  voice 
is  loud,  but  his  brain  fat  and  stupid,  who  walks  about  with 
his  eyes  open,  but  sees  nothing.'  That  is  you,  my  mas 
ter." 


46  MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 

"  Curse  his  impudence  J  What  did  he  say  of  me  ?  "  in 
terrupts  Errol,  not  at  all  pleased  at  this  description. 

"  Him  say, '  The  Giaour  dog  smokes  six  cigars  a  day  !  " 

"  Look  here,"  returns  Errol.  "  Don't  you  make  fun 
of  me,  young  one.  This  is  too  vital !  If  you  do " 

"  May  Allah  judge  me,  it  is  the  truth  !  " 

"  What  has  six  cigars  a  day  to  do  with  this  affair,  any 
way  ? — though  I  rather  believe  that's  about  my  day's  con 
sumption.  By  George  !  I  wish  I  had  one  now,"  con 
tinues  Errol,  feeling  his  pockets  carefully  in  hopes  he 
has  overlooked  a  stray  Havana.  "What  did  they  say 
next  ? " 

"  They  walked  away.  I  could  not  follow  them,  my 
feet  too  sore — look  !  "  Here  the  poor  little  fellow  exhibits 
to  the  Australian  the  bruises  left  by  the  Nubian  police 
men's  canes. 

"  Yes,  I  see,  you  can  hardly  walk  now.  And  you 
heard  no  more  ? " 

"  Lots  !  They  come  along  again,  and  Constantine,  him 
say  the  beautiful  lady  sell  for  a  thousand  purses  and  the 
other  one  for  a  hundred." 

"  Sell  for  a  thousand  purses  ?  "  echoes  Errol,  not  under 
standing  the  boy. 

"  Sell  her  to  pasha  way  up  there,"  and  the  child  points 
toward  Nubia,  "  the  great  pasha,  the  gates  of  whose 
harem  are  always  open  to  Frankish  beauties." 

"  Sell  Lady  Annerley  !  "  gasps  Errol,  more  in  astonish 
ment  than  in  horror,  for  the  idea  is  so  new  to  him. 

"  Yes,  sell  the  lady  of  the  tears  and  kill  you  !  Now 
that  Egypt  is  Egypt,  and  the  infidels  are  fled,  kill  you  ! 
That's  what  him  said,  kill  —  '  The  Arab  boy  suddenly 
disappears  into  the  donkey  stable  as  Mr.  Osman  AH,  who 
has  come  down  to  see  what  detains  his  master,  turns 
the  corner  of  the  court-yard  and  stands  in  the  pas 
sage. 

"  What  the  dev —  "  begins  Errol,  but  gets  no  farther, 
for  a  loud  knocking  is  now  heard  on  the  street  door  and 
the  voice  of  Mr.  Niccovie  loudly  cries  :  "  Open  !  It's  me, 
Niccovie  !  Quick,  my  life  is  dangerous  !  " 

For  a  moment  the  Australian  hesitates,  partly  from 
astonishment,  perhaps  partly  from  fear.  The  next  instant 
he  does  as  Niccovie  requests,  pulls  the  Greek  in  and 
locks  the  door  again.  For  Errol  has  the  Anglo-Saxon 


MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS.  47 

instinct  to  face  danger  rather  than  to  fly  from  it,  and  he 
reasons  to  himself, "  Just  as  well  now  as  any  time,"  being 
by  no  means  afraid  of  a  personal  combat  with  both  the 
Levantine  and  the  Armenian  united  against  him. 

Mr.  Niccovie  has  no  belligerent  intentions,  however, 
and  pants  and  gasps  for  breath  as  if  he  had  had  a  hard 
run  ;  then  after  a  moment  seizes  Errol's  hand  and  begins 
effusively  :  "  Grand  English  master,  to  you  am  my  life, 
this  house  has  saved  Niccovie  !  They  has  made  a  bon 
fire  in  the  Frankish  quarter  !  Behold,  the  smoke  am  red  ! 
pointing  toward  the  town  from  which  the  hum  of  com 
motion  becomes  greater  as  the  noise  of  the  bombardment 
which  is  dying  out  becomes  less. 

Errol  now  understands  the  reason  for  the  tinted  smoke 
that  drew  him  to  the  door,  and  being  anxious  to  get  both 
his  visitor  and  his  dragoman  away  from  the  Arab  boy's 
hiding-place  he  leads  the  two  upstairs. 

Arrived  there,  Osman,  who  has  been  jabbering  to  Nic 
covie  in  some  unknown  tongue,  says  to  his  master,  "  Con- 
stantine  tells  me  that  the  English  are  driven  back  and 
their  war  ships  sunk." 

"  Oh,  the  poor  English,  it  am  awful !  The  soldiers 
of  Allah,  how  'em  fight  ! "  chimes  in  the  Greek  with 
unctuous  enthusiasm. 

"  Impossible  !  I  don't  believe  you,"  says  Errol,  though 
his  face  becomes  gloomy,  for  he  knows  there  are  no  im 
possibilities  in  war. 

"  Now  I  am  come  to  save  you.  The  populace  are 
not  yet  excited  ;  if  you  fly  you  may  escape.  I  will  lead 
you  to  the  shore  !  " 

"  And  leave  the  women  ?  " 

"  Yes  !    We  will  be  responsible  for  the  ladies.     Under 


our  care 


"  You  need  say  no  more,"  interrupts  Errol.  "  I  did  not 
leave  them  last  night.  I  shall  still  less  desert  them  now." 

But  here  Lady  Annerley  enters  the  room  ;  coming  up  to 
him  she  leads  him  apart  and  whispers  :  "  Mr.  Errol,  I 
have  heard  what  these  men  say.  If  the  English  have 
been  defeated,  your  only  chance  of  safety  is  to  fly.  Alone, 
you  may  succeed  ;  with  me  you  are  doomed." 

«  YOU — you  insult  me,"  mutters  the  young  man.  "  Do 
you  think  me  coward  enough  to  desert  women  ?  " 

"  No.     I  think   you  are  very  brave  and  truly   noble. 


48  MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS. 

But  you  and  yours  have  suffered  too  much  already  fof 
me  and  mine." 

"  What  do  yotr  mean  ? " 

"While  you  were  downstairs,  foreseeing  that  you 
might  live  through  this  and  I  might  die,  I  wrote  this  " 
mutters  Lady  Annerley,  producing  a  carefully  folded  and 
tied-up  packet  which  she  gives  to  him.  "  Treasure  it  as 
you  would  your  life,  and  when  you  have  escaped,  read  it. 
It  will  answer  your  question." 

"  Certainly,  if  you  ask  it ;  though  I  don't  understand 
you     returns  Errol,  placing  the  packet  upon  his  breast 
with  such  care  *hat  Osman  and  Niccovie,  who  have  been 
looking  at  this  interview  from  the  other  end  of  the  room 
say  a   few    words  to  each  other  in  Arabic  under  their 
breaths,  and  after  this  do  not  press  Errol's  departure  for 
they  imagine    this    packet    contains  the   English  lady's 
jewels  and  money. 
<k  Now  you  will  go  ? " 
"  Never,  till  you  are  safe  !  " 

"  Even  if  I  told  you  what  would  make  you  hate  me  ? " 
'Hatejw/;"  There  is  a  curious  unbelief  in  this 
mans  voice  as  he  looks  at  her,  for  Lady  Annerley's 
beauty  is  very  great.  «  Hate  you  ?  "  Then  his  tone  sud 
denly  changes  and  he  says  to  her  sternly  :  «  Don't  you 
dare  to  tell  me  anything  that  would  make  me  desert  my 
duty  !  "  and  so  goes  off  to  the  Armenian  and  the  Greek 
and  cries  at  them  :  «  You  two  drop  this  talk  of  my  run 
ning  away  !  "  while  the  lady  stands  gazing  at  him  with 
a  blush  on  her  face,  for  there  is  something  in  Errol's 
tone  which  has  set  this  woman's  heart  to  beating  very 
wildly. 

At  this  command  Osman  says  nothing  ;  but  the  Lev 
antine  stalks  over  to  Lady  Annerley,  and  giving  her  a 
solemn  and  ceremonious  salam,  shouts  out :  "  That  man 
is  a  bravo  !  him  a  protector  of  women— me  too  !  Me 
Niccovie  stay  with  him  and  save  you  all-  all—  ALL  !  Me 
too  am  a  protectionist  !— for  you."  Here  he  makes  some 
fantastic  gesticulations,  and  seizes  his  greasy  coat  in  the 
region  of  the  heart,  emphasizing  his  concluding  remark 
with  a  glance  of  such  comical  gallantry  that  the  English 
lady  at  first  smiles,  but  a  moment  after  blushes  and  then 
turns  pale,  giving  a  little  shudder,  half  of  indignation, 
half  of  loathing ;  for  though  Sarah  Annerley  could  not 


MR.   POTTER   OF    TEXAS.  49 

define  it  Mr.  Niccovie's  gaze  has  become  that  of  a  slave- 
dealer  valuing  his  goods. 

Errol  has  not  paid  much  attention  to  this  last ;  he  is 
sitting  down  trying  to  pull  his  mind  together  as  to  what 
course  he  shall  take  ;  for  though  he  doesn't  entirely  be 
lieve  the  Arab  boy,  whose  revelations  he  regards  as 
monstrous,  still  he  by  no  means  trusts  Mr.  Niccovie  and 
Mr.  Osman. 

After  a  moment  the  former  of  these  worthies  gravely 
squats  down  and  produces  a  nargileh  pipe  and  prepares 
to  smoke  with  the  deliberate  manner  of  the  East,  filling 
it  carefully  from  a  package  of  Turkish  tobacco  he  takes 
from  his  pocket,  and  arranging  its  water  bowl — which, 
curiously  enough,  contains  no  liquid,  perhaps  from  the 
difficulty  of  carrying  it  in  his  pocket — with  great  care  ; 
all  the  time  eyeing  it  with  a  kind  of  satisfied  glance,  as  if 
remarking  to  himself,  "  How  cunning  I  am."  Just  as 
Niccovie  is  about  to  light  it,  he  suddenly  seems  to  re 
member  something  and  exclaims  : 

"  My  friends  no  smoke  !  I  forgot  me — I  have  cigars 
in  my  pockets  !  "  Here  he  pulls  out  some  Havanas,  takes 
one  himself  and  lights  it,  offers  another  to  Osman,  who 
also  smokes,  and  with  a  salam,  says  :  "  This  is  true  Cu 
ban.  May  it  find  favor  in  the  Englishman's  eyes  ! "  as 
he  offers  Errol  the  choice  from  several  weeds  he  holds 
in  his  hand. 

"  And  in  his  mouth  too !  "  says  that  young  gentleman, 
lighting  up  also,  for  he  has  been  looking  at  the  two 
men  with  envy  from  the  minute  they  have  begun  to 
smoke. 

Had  the  Levantine  only  offered  a  single  cigar  to  him 
or  had  he  not  smoked  himself,  perhaps  Errol  might 
have  been  suspicious  ;  as  it  is,  after  a  few  gingerly  taken 
whiffs,  he  finds  the  cigar  is  so  good  a  one  for  the  East, 
where  true  Havanas  are  scarce,  that  he  half  thinks  the 
Arab  boy  must  have  told  all  fiction  and  no  truth. 

So  the  three  sit  smoking  together  ;  the  nargileh  pipe 
all  ready  for  lighting  standing  unused  upon  a  divan  at 
the  side  of  the  room,  where  the  Greek  has  put  it  away. 
Toward  this,  as  they  smoke,  Osman's  eye  sometimes 
turns  with  a  twinkle  as  he  notes  how  Errol  enjoys  his 
cigar,  while  Mr.  Niccovie's  restless  red  orbs  seem  to 
divide  their  attention  between  the  beautiful  English 


5*  MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 

woman  and  the  Australian's  repeating  rifle,  which  Errol 
has  all  day  kept  close  at  his  hand.  The  first  Mr.  Nic- 
covie's  eyes  regard  with  a  smile  of  pleasure ;  the  last 
with  an  apprehensive  glance,  which  changes  into  a  sneer 
as  he  looks  upon  the  owner  of  the  weapon  enjoying  his 
cigar  that  is  now  nearly  finished. 

"You  smoke  not  much,"  he  says,  as  Errol  throws 
away  the  remnant.  "  Another  ?— take  all  !  "  and  he  emp 
ties  his  pockets  of  what  cigars  are  in  them  upon  a  neigh 
boring  shelf.  "  Osman  and  me  are  contentment  with  a 
pipe."  Here  he  points  to  the  nargileh. 

"  Thanks,  very  much,"  replies  the  Australian,  and  is 
about  to  take  another  when  Lady  Annerley  remarks  : 
"  The  guns  from  the  harbor  have  died  away  long  ago. 
I  think  all  fighting  is  over  ;  come  and  see  !  "  Errol 
goes  up  to  the  roof  and  finds  that  the  night  is  dark  but 
clear,  and  listens  for  such  sounds  from  the  water  as  will 
denote  the  English  are  preparing  to  occupy  the  town. 
Toward  the  sea  there  is  no  noise  ;  but  from  the  town 
comes  the  hum  of  many  voices  and  the  tramp  of  moving 
troops,  as  if  the  place  was  being  strongly  patrolled.  The 
fire  is  still  burning  in  the  Frankish  quarter,  but  has 
grown  no  larger  since  the  afternoon.  He  goes  down 
into  the  main  apartment  and  looks  at  his  watch.  Dis 
covering  it  is  nine  o'clock  at  night,  he  finds  himself  hun 
gry  and  tells  Osman  to  get  them  something  to  eat. 

While  the  dragoman  is  doing  this,  Martin,  with  one  or 
two  mysterious  gestures,  gets  Errol  to  her,  and  gives 
him  a  piece  of  information  which  is  one  of  several  that 
produce  a  resolution  in  the  Australian's  mind  which 
shortly  afterward  astonishes  both  the  Greek  and  the 
Armenian.  The  girl  has  been  in  a  terrified  stupor  all 
day,  but  she  is  now  in  an  equally  terrified  state  of  alert 
ness  as  she  whispers :  "  Don't  you  trust  them  two  hea 
thens.  If  you  do,  we're  all  dead  !  " 

"  What  makes  you  think  that  ?  " 

"This  morning  I  saw  Osman  out  in  the  street." 

"  In  the  street  ?  " 

^  "  Yes,  cutting  the  fountain  pipe.  It  won't  run  now. 
To-day  there  was  five  full  water  jars,  now  there  are  but 
three.  He  empties  them  every  chance  he  gets.  And 
the  way  them  two  looks  at  misses  and  I !  See,  that  one's 
at  it  now  !  " 


MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS.  5 1 

And  Errol,  following  the  girl's  gaze,  sees  one  of  the 
slavedealer's  expressions  on  Mr.  Niccovie's  face,  who  is 
enjoying  the  pretty  picture  made  by  Lady  Annerley  as 
she,  worn  out  by  the  excitement  of  the  day,  lolls  upon  a 
divan,  and  looks  about  in  a  dreamy  manner  as  if  she 
hardly  thought  the  present  was  reality.  Draped  in  the 
clinging,  airy,  black  dress  of  the  night  before,  the  only 
one  of  the  hundred  toilets  she  had  yesterday,  she  makes 
a  picture  Ge"rome  would  love  to  put  on  canvas. 

"  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  this  before  ? "  asks  Errol, 
his  face  growing  a  little  paler,  for  he  has  now  corrobora 
tive  evidence  of  his  dragoman  being  out  the  night  before, 
and  the  truth  of  the  Arab  boy's  story. 

"  The  guns  made  me  too  frightened  to  think — too 
daft  to  talk.  Oh,  don't  trust  them — don't!" 

"  I'll  keep  an  eye  on  them,  don't  you  fear,"  mutters 
Errol,  a  very  nasty  look  coming  into  his  face  as  Mr. 
Osman  announces,  "  Allah  has  blessed  us  with  food  ! 
Then  they  all  proceed  to  make  another  picnic  meal,  Mr. 
Niccovie  being  in  great  spirits,  and  giving  them  a  dis 
sertation  on  how  the  English  have  been  destroyed  this 
day,  Allah's  soldiers  being  so  brave.  For  them  to  die 
on  the  battle-field  is  to  go  to  Paradise  ! 

"  Yes,"  says  Errol  grimly,  "  under  the  English  guns 
they  emigrated  to-day  in  large  numbers  to  heaven." 

"  But,"  continues  the  Greek,  "  though  the  English 
have  fled  Niccovie  is  here.  Him  will  save  you  !  Nic 
covie  to-morrow  is  dead  !  Niccovie  dies  for  woman  ! 
Niccovie  the  protectionist  !  Niccovie  the  bravo  !  Poor 
Niccovie ! "  and  he  weeps  over  his  own  cruel  fate  in  a 
comical,  pathetic  way  that  would  make  Sarah  Annerley 
laugh  were  she  at  home  by  her  fireside,  but  here  it  is  so 
different,  and  the  English  lady  sighs. 

But  Mr.  Niccovie  is  now  interrupted  by  Errol.  The 
young  man's  rifle  has  been  placed  behind  him  ;  during 
the  meal  he  has  moved  a  little  way  from  it  to  assist  Lady 
Annerley.  While  the  Greek  has  been  making  his  loud 
est  harangue  and  greatest  jabber,  the  Australian's  ear 
has  caught  the  click  of  the  repeating  mechanism.  He 
turns  slightly  round.  Osman  is  walking  from  the  rifle, 
which  has  been  moved  slightly  ;  Errol  saunters  to  the 
weapon  as  if  to  change  its  location,  and  as  he  does  so 
tests  the  lock  and  breech  apparatus  ;  his  touch  tells  him 


52  MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

they  will  not  work.     In  perfect  order  when  he  had  laid  it 
down,  the  weapon  must  have  been  tampered  with 

As  he  faces  them  both,  for  Osman  has  passed  to 
where  Niccovie  sits,  there  is  something  in  the  Austra 
lian  s  face  that  makes  the  Greek  rise  suddenly  from  his 
divan  with  a  cry  of  alarm  ;  for  it  is  the  look  of  a  man  who 
has  given  up  playing  a  game  he  fears  he  will  lose  and 
has  taken  to  playing  a  game  at  which  he  knows  he  is  sure 
You  infernal  cads  and  sneaks  !  "  he  begins,  then  sud 
denly  cries:  "Put  up  your  hands  or  I  Ire  !"  and  his 
revolver  is  cocked  and  at  the  Levantine's  breast,  for  that 
gentleman  is  feeling  as  if  for  a  weapon. 

Mr.  Niccovie's  hands  go  up,  as  also  Mr.  Osman's  from 
sympathy  -Now!"  Errol  says  to  Martin,  « take  the 
weapons  from  those  men,  if  they  have  anv  " 

"  Oh,  sir  !  I  daresn't,  sir  !  " 
I  will  guard  you.     Do  it  at  once  '  " 

"  Oh,  sir  !     I'm  too  frightened,  sir." 

"  I  will  do  it,  Mr.  Errol,"  says  Lady  Annerley,  quietly 

M  htT^vVT^  W°rd'  th°Ugh  her  hands  tre™ble 
slightly,  this  belle  of  Belgravian  mansions  and  Paris  salons 
relieves  the  Greek  and  the  Armenian  each  of  a  knife  and 
a  pistol. 

"  What  shall  I  do  now  ?  "  she  asks,  moving  away  with 
the  weapons. 

"  Lock  them  up  in  that  cupboard." 

She  does  this,  but  Errol  can  see  she  conceals  one  of 
the  pistols  in  her  bosom. 

"Now!"    he  says  to   the  two  men,  who,  after   their 
excited  _Eastern  way,  are  beginning   to  gesticulate  and 
cry  out  innocent.     "Not  a  word  from  you  !     Into  that 
room  and  sit  down  !  "  And  he  marches  them  to  the  apart 
ment    the  Armenian    has    occupied    the    night   before 
And  they  squatting  in  a  corner  he  points   out  to  them 
he  says  to   Martin  :  «  Come  to  this  doorway  and  keep 
your  eyes  on  these  scoundrels,  and  if  they  move,  shriek  ! 
snnekl     That's  about  all  you're  fit  for— SHRIEK  !!  " 

The  maid  having  obeyed  him,  he  leads  Lady  Annerley 
to  one  side  and  whispers  :  «  Please  go  down  to  the  stable 
below— there  is  no  danger,  the  street  door  has  been  kept 
locked.  You  will  find  your  little  Arab  boy,  bring  him 
up  here.  I  would  do  it  myself,  but  it  is  necessary  I  keep 
near  these  men."  *  * 


MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  53 

Lady  Annerley,  without  a  word,  goes  down  to  do  his 
bidding,  and  in  a  minute  or  two  returns  with  the  Arab 
urchin,  who  is  crying,  and  says  he  is  hungry. 

"  You  shall  have  something  to  eat  after  you  answer  my 
questions,"  says  Errol.  "What  is  your  name,  my  little 
fellow?" 

"  Ammed." 

'  Ammed,  do  you  believe  in  the  Koran  ?  " 

"  Aye  !  and  in  Allah  i  " 

"  Do  you  believe  that  false  swearers  against  the  life  of 
man  will  be  punished  ?  " 

"  If  I  swear  away  a  man's  life  Allah  will  curse  me !  " 

As  the  Arab  boy  speaks  there  is  an  uneasy  rustle  from 
the  other  room. 

"  Then  swear  to  me  by  the  oath  you  value  most  whether 
you  told  the  truth  to  me  to-day  !  "  Errol's  voice  is  very 
low  and  solemn  here  and  trembles  slightly,  and  Sarah 
Annerley  looking  at  him  begins  to  tremble  also. 

*'  May  Allah,  Mohammed  and  Paradise  never  be  seen 
by  me,"  replies  the  boy  very  solemnly,  turning  and  mak 
ing  obeisance  to  the  East  after  the  manner  of  the  Mos 
lem  faith,  "may  my  grave  be  denied  and  my  kindred 
be  cursed  if  the  words  I  spoke  to  you,  Giaour,  to-day  be 
not  the  living  truth  !  On  my  head  be  it !  "  And  Errol 
knows  he  can  believe,  for  the  boy  is  trembling  at  his  own 
oath.  He  turns  to  Lady  Annerley  and  says  hoarsely  : 
"  Do  you  take  the  girl  and  Ammed  with  you  into  your 
apartment,  the  one  farthest  from  here,  and  wait  till — till  I 
call  you." 

"  Think  what  you  are  about  to  do  !  "  whispers  the 
woman  with  white  lips,  for  the  man's  face  tells  her  he  is 
going  to  kill. 

"  Take  the  girl  and  Ammed  away  from  here  !  " 

"  Errol,  remember  you  must  answer  to  God  for  these 
men's  lives  ! " 

"  Yes,  and  for  your  life  also  !  I  command  here  !  These 
men  have  condemned  themselves!"  and  he  cocks  the  re 
volver  and  motions  her  out  of  his  path. 

"  No  !  No  !  "  she  cries  clinging  to  him.  "  Not  even 
for  my  safety.  Spare  them  !  don't  kill  them  !  //  would 
be  murder.'' 

But  at  these  words  there  comes  a  shriek  of  terror  from 
the  next  room,  a  noise  of  rapid  movement  and  a  cry  from 


54  MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS. 

Martin.  Errol  forces  his  way  past  Lady  Annerley  and 
dashes  into  the  apartment  of  the  Armenian,  only  to  find 
it  empty  and  the  arras  torn  from  its  wall,  showing  an 
open  door  and  flight  of  steps  leading  to  the  street ;  for 
Osman  AH  and  Constantine  Niccovie  have  fled  from 
their  executioner  by  the  same  path  the  dragoman  had 
used  the  night  before. 

As  the  two  sped  along  the  street,  one  whispers  to  the 
other :  "  To-night  would  have  been  too  soon.  See ! 
the  law  is  still  enforced  !  "  pointing  to  a  strong  patrol  of 
Egyptian  soldiers  that  march  past  them. 

This  is  true,  for  Arabi  Pasha  well  knows  the  demorali 
zation  that  would  come  upon  any  army  retreating  through 
a  town  that  is  burning  and  being  pillaged  ;  and  the  only 
road  by  which  his  troops  can  evacuate  the  batteries  and 
barracks  of  Ras-el-Tin  being  through  the  city,  that  com 
mander  is  strongly  policing  the  streets  and  keeping  down 
the  conflagration  as  much  as  possible  this  night  in  Alex 
andria. 

Charley  Errol,  seeing  that  his  condemned  criminals 
have  escaped  him,  barricades  the  door  by  which  they 
have  left,  returns  to  the  main  apartment,  and  says  to 
Lady  Annerley,  from  whose  face  the  horror  of  the  last 
few  moments  has  not  passed  away  :  "  Better  open  ene 
mies  than  false  friends.  I  must  think  what  is  next  to  be 
done."  And  glancing  about  him,  exclaims  :  "By  George  ! 
here's  a  lucky  windfall.  That  Greek  scoundrel  has  left 
me  six  cigars  and  his  nargileh  pipe." 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE   NARGILEH    PIPE    OF    NICCOVIE,    THE    LEVANTINE. 

SMOKING  one  of  these  cigars,  which  is  very  comforting 
to  him,  the  Australian  sits  down  at  once  to  repair,  if  pos 
sible,  the  damage  Osman  has  done  his  Remington.  He 
carefully  overhauls  his  rifle,  which  is  very  simple  though 
effective  in  its  mechanism,  and  finding  the  injury  done 
to  it  by  his  dragoman  is  slight,  that  scoundrel  having 
had  but  a  moment  to  do  his  work  upon  the  weapon,  soon 
has  it  in  repair. 


MR.   POTTER  OF   TEXAS.  55 

After  testing  the  lock  and  repeating  apparatus  several 
times,  he  gives  the  rifle  an  affectionate  glance,  and  mut 
ters:  "Thank  God,  you'll  do  your  duty  if  I  but  do  mine." 
For  he  has  grown  to  regard  this  gun  as  a  friend,  having 
tested  it  against  small  game  that  run  from  you,  and 
against  big  game  that  come  to  you  to  kill  you,  and  it 
has  saved  his  life  on  other  occasions  than  this  ;  and  the 
English  woman  looking  at  him,  says  "  Thank  God  "  also. 
Do  artisans  in  the  great  gun  factories  of  the  world  often 
think  how  many  times  on  their  skill  and  faithful  labor 
hang  the  lives  of  men  and  the  honor  of  women  ? 

The  weapon  being  laid  down  with  a  sigh  of  relieved 
anxiety,  Errol  says  suddenly  : 

"  I  had  hoped  in  this  Moorish  house  to  remain  con 
cealed  through  any  riot  or  tumult.  Now,  with  those  two 
scoundrels  to  point  out  my  place  of  hiding,  I  must  fight 
my  way  through."  Here  he  muses  with  a  perturbed 
countenance,  and  after  a  moment  asks  Lady  Annerley  if 
she  can  suggest  any  plan  by  which  one  man  can  de 
fend  two  entrances  at  the  same  time. 

"  Why  not  barricade  one  ?"  she  suggests. 

"  Barricade  one— with  what  ?  Divans,  rugs  and  mats  ?  " 
mutters  Errol,  looking  about  with  scorn,  for  these,  after 
the  Turkish  fashion,  are  the  only  furniture  of  the  rooms. 

"  Then  nail  the  door  up, "  says  Lady  Annerley,  as  ii 
suddenly  struck  with  the  thought. 

"  A  fine  idea  !  Nail  the  door  up  !  "  echoes  Errol  with 
a  glum  laugh. 

«'  I  am  glad  you  think  it  a  fine  idea.  Let's  do  so  at 
once,"  returns  the  English  woman  proudly  ;  conscious 
that  she  has  solved  the  problem. 

"  That's  right !  bring  the  nails  and  tools  at  once, " 
he  laughs  with  a  sneer  at  woman's  thoughtlessness. 

At  this  Martin  interjects  :  "  So  I  would,  sir,  if  I  warn't 
scared." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? "  asks  Errol  in  astonishment. 

"  There  is  a  whole  work-house  below,"  answers  the 
maid.  "  I  seed  it  there  when  I  was  trying  to  get  out  of 
the  way  of  the  cannon  shot  this  morning." 

The  Arab  boy,  who,  having  been  fed,  has  been  too 
busy  with  the  provisions  to  talk  during  the  preceding  in 
terview,  here  corroborates  Martin  by  saying  sententiously: 
"  Abdallah  the  Moor  makes  copper  things." 


MR.   POTTER  OF  TEXA& 


<ul  »AhA     *  ^P^"??*  *    ,We  ™y  find  something  use- 

»'  fnltf  H  hr  Vtaklfgia  kmp'  is  downstairs  in  a  mill. 
me,  followed  by  the  whole  party  except  Lady  Annerley 
who  remains  above  to  warn  him  if  any  one  approaches 

Al?J  Vin  unC,6  WhlCh  as  yet  is  only  secured  by  a  lock. 
Abdallah  the  Moor  apparently  has  not  been  educated 
to  the  use  of  modern  tools.  Errol  finds  little  that  will  aid 
him  except  a  small  saw,  a  few  copper  nails,  a  strong  pair 
of  shears  capable  of  cutting  heavy  copper  plates,  a  large 
hammer,  and  a  few  pieces  of  wood  of  various  sizes  but 
not  large  enough  to  be  of  service  as  a  barricade  There 
are  also  a  number  of  tools  peculiar  to  the  working  of 
copper,  the  use  of  which  the  Australian  cannot  under- 
S  Snr  u-  CT  rummaSin§:  about,  he  pulls  out  a  couple  of 
Id-fashioned  augers  that  have  apparently  been  used  in 
xid  jobs  of  carpenters'  work  about  the  house,  and  carry 
ing  them  with  him,  he  returns  upstairs,  the  idea  having 
come  to  him  that  he  will  secure  the  small  door  to  its 
frame  with  large  wooden  pins,  as  he  can  find  no  nails 
strong  enough  to  withstand  any  forcible  attack. 

Then  making  an  examination  of  the  door  at  'the  street 
end  of  the  little  stair-way,  he  finds  it  altogether  too  dilapi 
dated  and  decayed  for  his  purpose  ;  though  the  one  at 
the  head  of  the  stairs  is  entirely  suited  to  his  purpose 
being  between  one  and  one-half  and  two  inches  thick  of 
strong  seasoned  oak.     He  is  preparing  to  secure   this 
3oor  when  Lady  Annerley,  who  has  been  watching  him 
says  suddenly,  looking  down  the  narrow  stone  passage 
through  which  the  steps  come  up  straight  from  the  street  ! 
What  a  place  for  a  mitrailleuse:' 

"  Magnificent  !  "  returns  Errol  grimly.  «  How  I  wish 
L  had  a  Catling  and  half  a  dozen  men  to  work  it  What 
made  you  think  of  a  mitrailleuse,  Lady  Annerley  ?  " 

"  Why  I  read  in  the  newspapers  that  mitrailleuses 
were  useful  for  defending  narrow  places  where  men  could 
not  avoid  their  fire.  -Oh,  Mr.  Errol,  what  is  the  matter 
with  you  ? 

^For  the  Australian  has  jumped  as  if  shocked  by  elec 
tricity  and  uttered  a  cry  of  joyous  exaltation.  "Lady 
Annerley,  I  adopt  your  idea.  This  door  shall  be  my 
Catling  gun  !  "  * 

With  this  he  pulls  out  one  of  his  Remington  cartridges 
•nd  comparing  it  carefully  with  the  thickness  of  the  doo* 


MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS.  57 

mutters  to  himself :  "  George,  won't  it  surprise  the 
scoundrels  !  That's  a  rum  idea  !  "  and  other  expressions 
of  delight  at  the  plan. 

In  fact  he  intersperses  all  through  his  work  upon  his 
killing  machine  remarks  of  a  similar  jovial  nature,  such 
as,  "  This  will  be  an  eye  opener  !  "  "  How  Niccovie  will 
stare!"  "This  will  make  Osman/ww//"  "Here's  a 
rib  cracker  for  the  Turks  ! "  etc.,  etc.,  all  the  time,  how 
ever,  working  as  if  it  were  for  his  life. 

First  he  measures  the  door,  which  is  of  hard  unyield 
ing  oak,  strong  enough  to  hold  a  Remington  cartridge 
firmly  and  prevent  its  copper  shell  expanding  when  fired. 
Next  he  makes  them  all  search  Abdallah's  tool-shop  till 
they  find  an  auger  that  has  but  a  little  greater  diameter 
than  the  cartridges. 

This  being  done,  he  examines  his  belt  and  pouch,  find 
ing  he  has  nearly  two  hundred  rounds  of  fixed  ammuni 
tion  beside  six  in  the  magazine  of  his  Remington ;  for 
Charley  Errol,  rather  expecting  a  row  in  Alexandria,  had 
thrown  away  all  his  provisions  to  carry  more  cartridges. 

He  can  spare  fifty  for  his  infernal  machine,  and  bores 
that  number  of  holes  through  the  door,  which  is  about 
eight  feet  high,  thirty  inches  wide,  and  two  inches 
thick  throughout,  having  after  the  Eastern  fashion  no 
panels. 

These  holes  he  makes  in  five  lines  across  the  door,  each 
line  ten  inches  from  the  other,  and  the  lowest  one  a  foot 
above  the  sill.  There  are  consequently  ten  holes  in  each 
row,  the  highest  of  all  being  about  four  feet  and  a  half 
from  the  floor. 

The  lowest  row  he  directs  so  as  to  rake  the  stair-way 
about  a  foot  high  for  its  whole  distance,  judging  this  will 
catch  any  one  trying  to  reach  the  door  by  crawling.  To 
the  other  lines  of  auger  holes  he  gives  a  generally  increas 
ing  depression  till  the  top  row  will  shoot  so  as  to  about 
strike  the  knees  of  men  standing  at  the  bottom  of  the 
steps.  These  orifices  also  converge  at  such  an  angle  as 
to  make  a  complete  cross-fire  upon  this  little  narrow 
walled-in  stair-way,  those  on  the  right  shooting  to  the 
left,  and  vice  versa.  All  this  Errol  does  with  a  good 
deal  of  labor,  for  the  wood  is  tough  and  the  auger 
old-fashioned  and  rusty  ;  and  with  a  great  amount  of 
care,  for  he  squints  through  each  hole  to  see  the  direc- 


MR.    HOTTER    OF    TEXAS. 


tion  is  right,  sighting  at  a  candle  the  Arab  boy  holds 
down  the  stair-way.  This  being  accomplished,  he  plugs 
each  of  the  holes  with  a  Remington  cartridge,  driving 
them  home  from  the  inside  with  a  piece  of  wood  till  the 
copper  rims  of  their  shells  prevent  their  going  in  any 
further  and  hold  them  firmly  in  their  places,  while  the 
bullets  project  slightly  upon  the  side  of  the  door  facing 
the  stair-way. 

Looking  on  this  instrument,  studded  as  it  is  with  fifty 
murderous  knobs  of  cold  lead,  Errol  gives  a  grim  chuckle 
and  mutters:  "They'll  be  cursed  clever  and  devilish 
lucky  if  they  dodge  that,"  and  proceeds  to  put  his  firing 
apparatus  in  order.  He  finds  two  good-sized  plates  of  cop 
per,  each  about  an  eighth  of  an  inch  thick,  in  Abdallah's 
work-shop  ;  in  these  he  punches  fifty  holes  about  a 
quarter  of  an  inch  in  diameter,  at  such  distances  apart 
that  when  placed  behind  the  door  each  of  these  orifices 
will  expose  the  central  fulminating  cap  of  one  of  the 
cartridges— a  laborious  job  which  he  at  length  accom 
plishes  by  heating  the  plates  with  the  aid  of  a  brazier  and 
bellows  the  Moor  had  evidently  used  for  the  same  pur 
pose,  and  then  cutting  them  as  he  wishes  by  a  die  and 
sledge-hammer. 

This  being  done,  he  takes  them  upstairs  and  fastens 
the  plates  to  the  back  of  the  door  as  firmly  as  he  can 
with  the  materials  he  can  find.  After  this  he  closes  the 
door,  locks  and  secures  it  in  place  as  well  as  possible,  and 
puts  a  brace  against  the  lower  plate,  not  having  any  tim 
ber  long  enough  to  reach  the  upper  one. 

He  then  darts  downstairs  again  and  finds  a  small  sharp- 
pointed  hammer,  such  as  braziers  sometimes  use,  and  to  be 
sure  this  will  work,  tries  it  upon  a  cartridge,  sacrificing 
one  to  be  sure.  This  he  does  in  the  cellar  for  fear  the 
noise  will  attract  attention  from  the  outside,  and  finding 
it  explodes  under  his  blow,  brings  the  hammer  up  to  the 
room  above  and  placing  it  beside  the  door,  announces  that 
the  mitrailleuse  is  ready  for  action  ;  and  the  pride  of  the 
inventor  coming  to  him,  almost  wishes  the  Moslem  beggars 
would  hurry  up  so  as  to  test  his  mechanical  skill.  Next, 
the  back  door  being  defended  by  the  machine  gun,  he 
tries  to  think  of  some  means  to  make  the  fire  of  his  rifle 
that  must  protect  the  main  entrance  of  the  house  more 
deadly ;  some  means  of  knowing  the  exact  location  of  his 


MR.   POTTER  OF   TEXAS.  59 

enemies  by  hearing  instead  of  seeing.  Upon  going  down 
to  take  a  look  at  this  front  door,  the  jingling  of  the  strings 
of  bells  that  adorn  Ammed's  donkeys  comes  to  him  from 
the  stable  and  with  it  an  idea. 

He  hastily  removes  these  from  the  beasts  :  they  are 
little  sleigh  bells  strung  on  strips  of  strong  leather,  each 
about  five  feet  long,  and  three  in  number.  The  first  of 
these  he  stretches  across  the  entrance  of  the  passage 
where  it  opens  upon  the  court-yard  ;  for  he  has  deter 
mined  to  make  no  fight  at  the  outer  portal,  but  to  take 
his  shooting  stand  upon  the  little  balcony  overlooking 
both  the  entrance  to  the  court-yard  and  the  steps  leading 
up  from  it  to  the  second  floor  they  occupy. 

"  The  beggars  can  enter  the  rooms  upon  the  ground  if 
they  like.  I  have  little  fear  of  fire,"  he  thinks;  "the 
house  is  all  stone  and  brick,  besides—  "  he  pauses  and 
whistles  a  little,  meditating  upon  the  Arab  boy's  evi 
dence--"  Mr.  Niccovie  and  Osman  would  hardly  wish 
to  burn  up  one  thousand  and  one  hundred  purses  of 
gold,  no  matter  what  they  might  like  to  do  to  me."  Then 
mutters  to  himself  :  "  George !  a  new  factor  in  military 
engineering — Lady  Annerley's  beauty." 

The  first  string  of  bells  he  hangs  about  a  foot  high,  per 
mitting  it  enough  sag  to  give  out  sound  briskly  to  any 
touch.  The  second  row  he  places  in  a  similar  manner 
across  the  stair-way  leading  up  from  the  court-yard. 
Testing  them  and  finding  them  to  work  satisfactorily,  he 
takes  the  bearing  of  these  strings  by  other  objects  nearer 
to  his  shooting  stand,  so  that  he  has  their  range  pretty 
accurately  in  the  dark.  Then  he  gives  a  grim  chuckle 
muttering:  "The  scoundrels  '11  hardly  crawl  over  those, 
dark  as  it  is,  without  my  hearing  ;  "  and  coming  to  Lady 
Annerley  says  :  "  Now  I  think  I'm  ready  for  them,  but 
it  was  hot  work, "  then  sinking  down  on  a  divan,  wipes 
the  great  beads  of  exhausted  toil  from  his  forehead. 

All  this  has  taken  hours,  though  the  young  man  has 
worked  like  one  possessed,  the  fire  of  invention  in  his 
eye.  In  fact  he  has  made  them  all  work  this  night ;  run 
ning  his  errands  and  doing  his  bidding  like  slaves  about 
the  forge  of  Vulcan,  even  telling  Lady  Annerley  to  "jump 
quick!"  Which  that  lady  has  done  very  rapidly,  for, 
though  Sarah  has  been  accustomed  to  command,  like  most 
women,  she  is  delighted  to  obey  the  right  man,  if  he  only 


OC  MR.   POTTER  OP  TEXAS. 

orders  her  about  in  the  right  way.  Indeed,  all  this 
night  while  the  young  Australian  has  been  forging  the 
weapons  that  shall  give  her  freedom,  he  has  been  forging 
fetters  about  the  heart  of  this  great  English  lady  that 
make  her  a  slave  forever. 

As  Errol  sits  down  with  a  sigh  he  mutters  :  "  George  ! 
I'd  get  a  cigar  if  I  were  up  to  it,"  and  the  next  moment 
is  astonished  to  find  one  of  his  windfalls  from  Niccovie 
placed  in  his  hand,  and  Lady  Annerley  standing  before 
him  with  a  little  burning  coal,  ready  to  light  it  at  his 
behest. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon," he  says.  "  I  meant  the  hint  for 
Martin,  not  you.  Pardon  my  laziness  !  " 

"  I  prefer  to  wait  on  you  myself,"  she  returns,  blush 
ing  slightly. 

"And  why  is  that?" 

"  Don't  ask  questions  !  You're — you're  too  tired.  Oh, 
how  you  have  toiled  for  my  safety  this  hot  night !  " 

Which  is  true,  for  the  beads  of  perspiration  are  still 
upon  Errol's  forehead,  his  arms  ache,  and  his  breath 
comes  in  the  short  gasps  of  exhaustion. 

Having  said  this  she  goes  a  little  way  from  him,  and, 
sitting  down  herself,  gazes  at  the  young  man  in  a  pa 
thetic  and  wistful  manner,  which  is  a  very  bad  symptom 
in  women  of  Lady  Annerley's  temperament. 

Errol  finishes  his  cigar  and,  turning  everything  over  in 
his  mind,  remarks  :  "  Now  I'm  good  for  the  front  en 
trance  I  hope,  and  I  have  strong  faith  in  the  mitrailleuse 
doing  deadly  work  at  the  back  door." 

"  Then  it  is  time  for  you  to  go  to  sleep,"  says  Lady 
A  nnerley. 

"  Sleep  ?  Why  there's  no  telling  at  what  moment  we 
may  be  attacked." 

"  For  that  time  you  must  keep  your  strength.  I  can 
not  fight,  but  I  can  watch.  Let  me  at  least  do  some  of 
that." 

To  this  Errol,  after  some  grumbling,  assents,  lying 
ready  for  action  at  her  call.  For  both  of  them,  not 
knowing  what  the  Egyptian  commander  is  doing  in  the 
city,  imagine  their  danger  is  now — not  to  come. 

So  Lady  Annerley  sees  the  early  sun  rise  and  get 
high  in  the  heavens  on  th>?  second  day  of  the  English 
attack  upon  the  city 


MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  §1 

When  Enrol  opens  his  eyes  she  is  still  watching.  He 
looks  at  his  watch  and  cries  :  "  Twelve  o'clock  !  Why 
didn't  you  wake  me  before  ?  Now  it  is  your  turn,  Lady 
Annerley,  you  must  lie  down.  I'll  look  out  ^for  you. 
I'm  a  new  man  now.  Please  go  to  your  room  !  "  . 

But  she  answers  :  "  Not  till  you  tell  me  what  the  move 
ment  in  the  harbor  means  !  " 

"  Ah  !  the  English  ships  are  still  there  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Hurrah  !  Then  I  expect  we're  all  right,"  and  he 
dashes  to  the  little  stair-way,  but,  seeing  she  is  following, 
turns  and  assists  her  up  to  the  roof,  and  the  two  look  out 
on  the  harbor  together. 

The  Egyptian  forts  are  silent  and  dismantled,  their 
parapets  in  ruins,  their  guns  overthrown,  destroyed 
and  deserted.  The  English  fleet,  on  the  contrary,  are 
apparently  in  nearly  as  good  condition  as  when  they 
opened  fire  the  day  before ;  though  they  all  show  scars 
from  striking  shots,  and  one  has  a  large  gaping  hole  in 
her  smoke-stack.  They  are  under  steam,  but  all  far 
away  in  the  outer  harbor,  which  surprises  Errol,  as  there  is 
a  flag  of  truce  flying  from  the  Lighthouse  Fort,  and  a  small 
steam  yacht  with  the  Egyptian  flag  is  alongside  the  Brit 
ish  ship  that  bears  the  admiral's  pennon. 

"  We're  safe,"  he  cries. 

"  How  do  you  know  that  ?  Are  you  sure  ?  "  asks  Lady 
Annerley,  her  lips  trembling. 

"  Of  course  !  They're  arranging  the  terms  of  sur 
render.  Our  troops  '11  occupy  this  town  before  night. 
Home  again  ! "  and  he  begins  to  sing  the  old  British 
ballad. 

"  Home  again !  "  echoes  the  English  lady,  and  there 
are  tears  in  her  eyes.  Apparently  some  also  get  into 
Errol's,  for  the  song  seems  to  choke  him,  and  he  mur 
murs,  "  Thank  God ! "  the  two  days'  strain  upon  the 
young  man  having  given  way  with  a  snap  now  he  thinks 
they  are  safe. 

After  a  moment  he  mutters  :  "  You  had  better  go  down 
and  rest.  All  is  over  !  " 

"  Not  till  I  see  the  boats  land.     I  couldn't  sleep  now." 

"  All  right.  I'll  go  down  and  get  a  cigar,"  and  he 
does  so,  bringing  up  two. 

Then  the  Arab  boy  comes  and  puts  his  head  out  of 


6?  -MR.   POTTER  OF  TEXAS. 

the  skylight,  and  looking  at  him  smoking,  says,  plaint* 
ively  :  "  Me  no  cigarettes  !  " 

To  which  Errol,  in  his  happiness,  responds  by  throwing 
him  the  other  cigar,  and  telling  him  to  put  that  in  his 
mouth. 

An  invitation  young  Ammed  accepts  at  once,  puffing 
away  with  the  vigor  of  a  veteran  ;  Errol  informing  Lady 
Annerlcy  he  will  buy  the  boy  who  has  done  so  much  for 
them  a  whole  herd  of  the  best  donkeys  in  Alexandria. 

But  Ammed  declines  his  offer  with  barbarian  brusque- 
ness,  answering  :  "  It  was  not  for  you,  Giaour,  but  for 
the  lady  whose  tears  are  pearls  !  "  and  striding  up  to 
Lady  Annerley,  makes  her  blush  by  patting  her  fair 
cheeks  and  muttering,  "  Beautiful  !  Beautiful  !  " 

She,  however,  smothers  the  blush  in  a  merry  laugh, 
for  they  have  got  to  laughing  real  laughs  now,  they  are 
all  so  happy. 

Then  Martin,  assisted  by  the  Arab  boy,  gets  breakfast,, 
which  they  take  still  watching  for  the  landing  of  the 
English,  no  signs  of  which  come. 

The  Egyptian  yacht  has  left  the  ship  of  the  British 
admiral  and  returned  to  the  shore  ;  the  white  flag  still 
flies  from  the  Lighthouse  Fort ;  but  no  boats  are  launched 
from  the  great  iron-clads  that  hardly  move  under  the 
strong  breeze  that  is  producing  quite  a  sea.  Behind  them 
two  American  men-of-war  roll  and  toss;  they  are  not  half 
so  big. 

The  town,  however,  is  moderately  quiet,  though  the 
fire  in  the  foreign  quarter  is  still  burning,  and  the  ones  in 
the  Harem  and  Khedive's  palace  are  not  yet  extinguished. 

Lady  Annerley  suddenly  says :  "  It  is  now  two  hours, 
and  no  move  yet,"  then  gives  a  sigh. 

Errol  does  not  answer  her.  He  is  sweeping  with  his  field 
glass  the  outer  harbor  and  trying  to  see  the  Mediter 
ranean  behind  the  Ras-el-Tin  Cape,  as  if  searching  des 
perately  for  something.  After  doing  this  again  and  again 
he  finally  moves  away  from  his  companion  as  if  he  did 
not  wish  to  alarm  her  by  his  manner.  Noticing  this, 
Lady  Annerley  strides  after  him  and  asks  :  "  What  is  it 
you  wish  to  conceal  from  me  ? " 

"Nothing— I-I " 

"  Don't  prevaricate  !  I  demand  to  know  what  is  the 
natter ! " 


MK.    POTTER   OF  TEXASk  63 

"Well,  then  if  you  insist — I — I  don't  see  any  troop 
dhips  here.  There  are  no  soldiers  to  occupy  this 
place  ! " 

"  Oh,  they'll  come  after — in  a  day  or  two." 

"  In  a  day  or  two  we  shall  be " 

Though  Errol  does  not  complete  the  sentence  Lady 
Annerley  does.  "  You  mean  we  shall  be  dead?  " 

"It  looks  that  way!" 

"  But  those  iron-clads  can  send  some  men  on  shore  ?" 

"  Too  few  !  They  don't  seem  to  dare  risk  it,  even  now 
that  Arabi  is  evacuating  the  forts."  Here  he  points  to  the 
long  columns  of  infantry  and  artillery  that  are  coming 
along  the  Street  Ras-el-Tin,  and  from  the  barracks  be 
hind  the  Meks  Forts,  and  are  moving  through  the  town 
to  the  gate  called  the  Column  of  Pompey  and  the  road 
leading  to  Cairo.  "  Those  modern  ships  are  full  of 
steam-engines,  not  men,"  he  continues.  "  You  can't 
garrison  a  town  with  machines.  One  of  Nelson's  old 
liners  could  spare  more  sailors  for  shore  duty  than  that 
whole  fleet." 

"  Then  you  think  our  case  desperate  ? " 

"  Very  !  It  would  be  wrong  to  hide  it  from  you  now. 
Please  go  downstairs  and  get  a  little  rest.  I'll  call  you 
if  needed  ;  good-bye  till — to-night !  "  Errol  lingers  upon 
the  last  word  as  if  to-night  will  be  the  crisis,  and  she 
understanding  him  gives  a  smothered  sigh,  but  says 
nothing,  and  leaves  him  to  watch  and  see  the  hopes  that, 
made  bright  this  morning,  fade  one  by  one  this  evening. 

Still  no  sign  of  movement  in  the  English  fleet  ;  but 
the  columns  of  soldiers  leaving  the  town  become  heavier, 
more  dense,  and  worse  disciplined  as  they  pass  along 
The  advance  guard  were  in  exact  military  array,  the 
center  has  been  somewhat  ragged  and  broken,  with  occa 
sional  stragglers  that  become  more  and  more  numeious  ; 
until  the  rear  guard  that  passes  now  is  nothing  but  an 
armed  mob  that,  killing  any  officer  who  tries  to  control 
them,  spread  out  in  squads  over  the  hapless  town  in 
search  of  loot  and  liquor. 

The  fires  in  the  Frankish  quarter  become  brighter  and 
more  numerous,  and  some  appear  in  other  parts  of  the 
city  ;  the  yells  of  the  barbarian  populace,  augmented 
now  by  drunken  soldiers  and  criminals  from  the  prisons 
that  have  been  burst  open,  fill  the  air,  mingled  with  the 


•4  »JK.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

cries  of  women  and  children  :   while  now  and  again 

musketry  firing  tells  of  violence  and  death. 

And  as  night  and  darkness  settle  down  upon  this 
town  that  military  rule  has  left  to  anarchy,  they  bring 
with  them  all  the  horrors  of  lust  and  drunkenness,  riot 
and  arson,  pillage  and  murder,  each  exaggerated  and 
made  more  cruel,  because  it  is  an  Eastern  mob  of  fanat 
ics  that  do  this  bloody  work  ;  for  at  this  business  they 
are  supreme.  The  Apache  Indian  has  done  some  good 
work  in  the  torturing  line  ;  Protestant  ministers  have 
made  witches  die  very  hard  ;  the  Inquisition  has  in 
vented  some  rare  tormenting  in  its  time  ;  but  for  cold 
blooded,  fantastic,  atrocious  cruelty  on  unbelievers,  there 
never  has  been  and  there  never  will  be  such  a  conglome 
ration  of  fiends  upon  this  earth  as  an  "  Allah  be  praised  " 
impromptu  Mohammedan  mob. 

Looking  at  this,  Errol  mutters,  "  God  help  us  !  "  gives 
a  last  appealing  gaze  at  the  British  fleet  that  still  never 
raise  an  anchor  nor  lower  a  boat,  and  anathematizes  the 
head  of  the  government,  who  has  sent  a  navy  to  drive 
out  Egyptian  law,  but  no  soldiers  to  prevent  Christian 
massacre, 

«  Hang  him  !  "  he  cries,  "  this  man  of  half  measures, 
who  values  loutish  votes  more  than  innocent  lives. 
His  troops  '11  come  too  late  !  There'll  be  more  men 
than  me  in  this  war  who'll  look  for  succor  that  '11  come 
too  late !  Curse  him!  some  clay  his  country  '11  say  he 
died  TOO  LATE  !  " 

With  this  parting  shot  at  him  whose  half-way  policy  has 
killed  so  many  of  those  who  have  trusted  in  England's 
faith,  the  Australian  goes  downstairs  to  make  his  final 
preparations  for  the  combat  he  knows  this  night  will 
bring  to  him. 

He  inspects  his  arms  and  defenses,  and  finding  they 
are  all  right  feels  wearied  and  tired  ;  for  the  day  has 
been  blazing  hot.  He  lies  down  on  an  ottoman,  thinking 
he  will  get  a  little  rest  if  the  noise  outside  will  let  him. 
The  next  minute  he  imagines  he  would  like  a  cigar  and 
remembers  there  is  one  precious  one  left.  Looking  for 
this  treasure  he  finds  it  gone  ;  discovering  the  smoking 
stump  of  it  in  the  Arab  boy's  mouth.  That  young 
urchin  having  enjoyed  the  first  one  so  much,  has  appro 
priated  number  two,  in  the  absence  of  his  loved  cigarettes 


MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  65 

j^ot  having  one,  a  cigar  becomes  almost  a  necessity ; 
and  Errol  returns  very  much  disappointed  to  his  divan. 
<It  would  have  been  my  last  cigar,  I  imagine,"  he 
Chinks,  "and  to  be  robbed  of  that — "  But  a  moment 
later  his  eyes  brighten  as  they  fall  upon  the  nargileh 
pipe  that  Mr.  Niccovie  had  prepared  for  himself.  He 
cries  :  "  Here's  luck.  Pipes  and  baccy  !  " 

So  it  comes  to  pass,  the  Arab  boy  having  finished  two 
of  the  six  cigars  the  Levantine  left  behind  him,  Charley 
Errol  lights  up  and  smokes  Mr.  Niccovie's  pipe  about 
five  hours  before  that  gentleman  calculated  he  would. 

After  a  whiff  or  two  the  young  man  pauses  suspiciously; 
then  mutters,  "  Pshaw  !  Niccovie  was  going  to  smoke  this 
himself ;  "  takes  a  few  whiffs  more,  and  with  these  whiffs 
loses  the  wish  to  abstain.  For  he  mutters  :  "  This  pipe's 
the  most  soothing  upon  earth,"  and  going  on  smoking  in 
a  dreamy,  happy  sort  of  way,  the  terrors  and  anxieties  of 
life  pass  from  him,  the  room  that  was  somber  with 
foreboding  and  the  lowering  shadows  of  night  becomes 
bright  with  hope  and  brilliant  as  with  the  noon-day  sun ; 
the  tumult  that  comes  from  the  town  with  a  louder  and 
more  horrid  din  of  shouts  and  cries  and  roar  of  flames 
is  to  him  as  the  music  of  the  spheres  of  Heaven  ;  and 
Charley  Errol,  who  should  be  awake  and  watching,  sleeps 
the  sleep  that  has  been  prepared  for  him  by  Niccovie  the 
Levantine. 

A  few  moments  after  this  Lady  Annerley  comes  into  the 
main  apartment.  Unable  to  sleep  for  the  noise,  woman's 
curiosity  has  suggested  that  she  can  find  forgetfulness  in 
discovering  the  precise  thing  that  made  Errol  the  night 
before  think  that  for  her  safety  Osman  and  the  Greek 
must  die.  Approaching  tG  ask  him  this,  she  finds  him 
asleep,  and  with  careful,  noiseless  steps  crosses  to  the 
next  room,  thinking  it  best  to  let  him  rest  for  the  exer 
tions  that  the  night  may  bring  to  him  ;  but  as  she  goes 
favors  him  with  a  look  such  as  this  woman,  widow  as 
she  is,  has  never  given  to  any  other  man  before. 

In  the  apartment  she  enters,  which  is  the  one  from 
which  Osman  and  the  Greek  have  fled,  she  finds  the 
young  Arab  curled  up  on  a  mat. 

Under  her  questioning  Ammed  tells  her  of  the  future 
fate  these  gentlemen  had  prepared  for  her  and  her  maid. 

At  first  she  does  not  understand  him,  but  finally  the 


MR.    POTTER   OP   TEXAS. 

shock  to  her  pride  and  womanhood  comes  home  to  her 
and  she  shudders  and  blushes  and  hides  her  head  in 
shame;  but  when  Sarah  Annerley  lifts  it  up  again  a 
dauntless  resolution  is  in  her  face ;  and  the  boy^reve- 
lation  has  jnven  her  a  spirit  to  achieve  man-  ™ 


what's  the  matter  with  Mr.  Errol  ?  " 
"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 
"  Oh,  mum,  he's  snoring  awful  !  " 
||  Then  you'd  better  wake  him  up  J  " 
I  can't,  mum;  I've  been  trying  for  a  minute  f  » 
Can  t  wake  him  up  ?     Nonsense  I  "  and  Lady  Anner- 
ley   coming   to   the   young   man's  side  tries  a  Jam     nd 
again  to  bring  him  from  hi!  slumber,  *£%$$?  "* 
Here  the  Arab  boy,  who  has  strolled  in  after  the  two 
women,  astounds  her,  for  he  walks  to  the  pipe  snfffs  ft 
once  or  twice,  and  remarks  sententiously,  «  Opium"  » 
"Opium!     What  do  you  mean  ?" 
"  Him  smoke  opium  !  " 

"  Good  heavens  !  "  for  now  the  treachery  of  the  I  evan 
' 


crTs"  «  H^  hT,aS/he  IO°ks  at  the  -  Pipe 

He  has  robbed  us  of  our  defender  !     Wake 
him  up  !    Wake  him  up  !    God  help  us,  how  shall  I  wake 

tr^ted         /"";"  and  WdngS  her  h;nds  as  one   di»- 
Here  Ammed,  who,  like  all  who  live  in  the  East  is 


"  I  can't,  marm,  I'm  too  agitated  !  " 
Then,  idiot,  run  and  get  water  !     Quick  !  "   screams 

in  her  own  hand  the 


But  Ammed  takes  it  from  her,  savin?  "  Me  know  I  " 
and  the  coals  in  the  brazier  being  in  a  glow  tows  coffee 
anArS  ^J""*  lMof  ^ounds^ith  thlskm  of 

"e  glving  directions  in  hifi  lin^°  as 


Under  his  orders  Lady  Annerley  and  her  maid  force 


MR.   POTTER  OF   TEXAS. 


ifnd  tUn  t"^  F-05!!1011'  Pr°PPin?  hi»  "P  With  pilloWS, 

and  then  work  his  hmbs  to  mcrease  the  circulation    Next 

AmJ  ?  H  T  reaudy>  they  pry  °Pen  his  mouth.  and 

Ammed  pours  down  his  throat  such  a  burning  hot  con- 

biacker 


the  Gia°ur  Walk  I  " 

o*i,  f,  desPair'  for  the  noise  of  riot 

outside  is  getting  nearer,  this  gentle  English  lady  almost 
unhelped  by  the  maid,  who  becomes  more  useless  the 
more  her  aid  ,s  needed,  forces  the  six  feet  of  nanfmate 
bone  and  smew  to  its  feet  and  tries  with  desperate  krks 
and  pushes  to  force  it  to  move  ;  but  it  only  gives  a  ha" 
stride,  half  stumble  and  falls  upon  the  floor 

More  coffee  !  "  screams  the  boy,  who  has  got  to  take 
pnde  in  his  work,  and  he  is  upon  Errol  again  and  gives 
him  another  dose  larger  and  hotter  than  before  yelling  to 
he  women  :  «  Beat  his  feet  !  Whip  the  unbelieCg  dog 

with  al    hf,nf  fSU?ng-  *11S  aCti°nS  to  his  words-  fells  to 
S 


LadvA^nJ1?  iS  ^Silted  in.amore  moderate  manner  by 
Lady  Annerley  and  her  maid.     Still  seeing  no  signs  of 

returning  animation,  the  Arab  bolts  from  the  room  re 
turning  the  moment  after  with  a  lot  of  canes  TeAaDs 
used  by  Abdallah  the  Moor  to  keep  orderln  hisCem 
and  hrowmg  one  to  each  of  the  women  shrieks,  "Beat 

vll?  h    v  •    K     f  \   BEAT  HIM!"  ^laboring  with  every 
yell  the  hmbs  of  the  Australian. 

This  desecration  of  her  hero's  person  horrifies  Ladv 
Annerley  ;  she  screams,  «  Let  him  alone,  you  Me  fiend^ 
Let  us  d,e  m  peace  !  "  trying  to  push  him  from  hfs  vfj 

But  he  jabbers,  "  The  only  thing  !  No  time  to  wait  t 
See  em  do  this  before  !  "  and  beats  away  until  exhau^d 


tfut  Ammed   cuts   short  sentiment  by  another    ono- 
strong  dose  of  coffee,  which  causes  the  AustraHan's  eyfs 


68  MR.   POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 

to  open ;  though  after  a  moment  he  closes  them  agaia 
But  he  does  not  do  so  long,  for  the  boy  is  at  him  once 
more  with  switchings  of  the  cane  which  make  him  open 
his  mouth  and  beg,  "  Go  away  and  let  me  sleep  !  " 

"  No  sleep  now  !     Get  up  !  " 

"  I — I'm  too  tired."  This  is  with  a  lazy  sigh  ;  and  the 
opium  smoker  rolls  over  on  the  divan,  for  another  dream  of 
heaven,  despite  the  hell  of  noises  upon  earth  that  come 
from  the  ravaged  and  looted  town,  and  the  tears  and  en 
treaties  of  the  woman  who  begs  him  to  rise  up  for  her 
sake. 

But  the  next  second  Errol  springs  up  with  a  yell  of  rage, 
not  pain  ;  the  drug  is  too  strong  in  him  for  feeling,  only 
he  will  not  have  his  rest  disturbed.  For  the  Arab  boy, 
getting  a  chance  when  Lady  Annerley's  back  has  been 
turned,  has  taken  off  Errol's  Eastern  slippers  and  fallen  to 
again  with  vicious  vigor  upon  the  soles  of  the  sleeper. 

"  Now  him  on  his  feet,  no  let  him  lie  down.  Keep 
him  up.  Him  all  right.  More  coffee  !  " 

Thus  adjured  the  two  women  try  and  support  the  man 
about ;  but  he  staggers  from  them  to  a  divan,  muttering  : 
"  Let  me  sleep  but  a  minute  ;  and  dream  of " 

But  Lady  Annerley  will  no  more  let  him  succumb  now 
than  the  Arab  boy,  for  the  sounds  without  make  her  des 
perate,  and  she  flies  at  him.  Despite  his  struggles  they 
all  together  succeed  in  getting  more  coffee  down  him, 
and  shake  him,  and  prod  him,  and  fight  him  till  he  snarls 
at  them  with  rage  ;  for  it  is  not  the  man  who  speaks  to 
them,  it  is  the  drug  ;  but  they  are  all  at  him  again  till  he 
sits  up  and  has  apparently  more  vigor. 

Here  Lady  Annerley  calls  the  Arab  boy  to  her,  for  she 
has  already  written  a  hurried  message  : 

"  Come  to  my  aid. 

"  Sarah  Aimer1  ey, 

"  House  of  Abdallah,  the  Moor." 

And  hearing  from  him  the  name  of  the  street,  adds  it  to  the 
note  as  she  speaks  to  the  child  and  says  :  "  Ammed,  you 
are  the  only  one  of  us  who  can  pass  through  the  town 
this  night  with  life.  Will  you  take  this  note  to  the  Ma 
rina  and  wait  there  till  boats  from  the  English  come,  and 
give  it  to  the  first  Frankish  sailor  that  you  see  ? " 

To  this  the  little  fellow  answers  ;  "Yes,  lady,  me 
know." 


MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  69 

"  I  can  depend  on  you  ?  " 

"  As  I  live  and  believe  in  Allah  !  " 

Then  charging  Martin  to  keep  Errol,  who  still  gazes 
about  as  if  dazed,  awake  and  moving  as  she  loves  her 
life,  Lady  Annerley  goes  with  the  Arab  boy  down  the 
stair-way  into  the  court-yard,  and  so  through  the  passage 
that  leads  to  the  front  door,  taking  care  not  to  disturb 
the  two  strings  of  donkey-bells  she  crosses.  Here  press 
ing  some  money  in  Ammed's  hand,  and  bidding  him  "  God 
speed,"  she  opens  the  portal,  and  he  darts  into  the  street 
and  disappears  in  the  noise  and  tumult  that  seems  now 
all  about  them. 

Then  she  quickly  runs  back  to  the  great  apartment  and 
gives  a  groan  of  despair,  for  Errol  is  asleep  again. 

"  He  said  as  how  it  would  do  him  good,"  murmurs 
Martin  complacently. 

"  Worthless  wretch  !  "  shrieks  her  mistress.  "  Were  it 
your  life  to  save  I'd  let  him  sleep  and  you  die.  But  it's 
his.  They'll  come  and  kill  him  while  he  lies  there  !  " 

Then  she  flies  at  him  and  caresses  him,  and  throwing 
pride  away,  begs  him  to  rise  up  and  live,  if  not  for  his 
sake  for  her  own.  She  loves  him.  She  will  make  him 
happy,  her  hero  who  has  protected  her  so  far.  And  then 
growing  very  desperate,  for  she  has  lost  Ammed's  help 
now  and  knows  the  time  is  shorter  and  the  danger  is  more 
near,  she  beats  and  buffets  this  thing  she  loves,  and  cries 
over  him,  but  strikes  him  all  the  same,  until  at  last  he 
opens  his  eyes  again,  and  this  time  there  is  more  sense  in 
them  ;  the  pupils  are  more  dilated.  Then  she  gives  him 
more  coffee  and  begs  him  to  move  about  ;  crying  that 
their  lives  depend  upon  his  sense  and  power.  This  he 
does,  for  he  has  now  thrown  off  enough  of  the  drug  to  wish 
to  be  himself,  and  manhood  comes  in  to  help  him  fight  his 
battle.  So  after  more  struggles,  and  more  coffee,  and 
then  having  deathly  nausea  and  spasms  of  pain  and 
vomiting,  Charley  Errol,  pale,  trembling,  weak  as  an 
infant,  the  ghost  of  his  former  self,  awakes  from  the 
opium  sleep  just  at  the  hour  Constantine  Niccovie  thought 
he  would  be  most  under  its  power,  and  hears  a  clang  of 
arms  and  the  noise  of  men  creeping  up  the  little  stair 
way  by  which  the  Greek  had  fled,  and  stealthily  trying  to 
force  the  back  door  that  he  has  made  a  mitrailleuse. 


7<>  MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

A      MOSLEM      MOB. 

AND  the  woman,  hearing  the  noise  also,  whispers  with 
white  lips  to  the  man  :  "  Tell  me  what  to  do  to  save  us  !  " 

For  Errol  has  staggered  to  his  feet,  but  sank  again  ex 
hausted  and  put  his  hand  to  his  head  and  cried  out : 
"  My  Heaven  !  Too  dizzy  to  see  to  fight  !  " 

"  What  shall  I  do  to  save  us  ? " 

And  he  gasps  back  at  her  :  "  They  must  be  standing 
now.  Take  the  hammer.  Strike  the  caps  of  the  upper 
row.  Quick  !  "  For  finding  no  resistance  the  hand  of 
Osman  and  Niccovie  are  driving  the  little  door  off  its 
hinges. 

Running  into  the  room  Lady  Annerley  pauses  to  beg 
God  to  forgive  her  for  these  men's  lives,  but  as  she 
prays  she  hears  amid  the  varied  blasphemies  of  the  East 
her  name  and  price  for  the  pasha's  harem,  and  she  prays 
no  more  but  strikes.  And  mingling  with  the  awful 
rattle  and  tattoo  of  the  crashing  reports  come  groans  and 
oaths  and  shrieks  of  agony. 

For  there  was  no  time  for  retreat,  and  the  heavy  cart 
ridges  did  deadly  work  on  the  Moslem  crowd  jammed  in 
the  sixteen  feet  of  narrow  staircase.  Those  that  live  re 
treat  from  this  new  engine  of  war  ;  the  wounded  drag 
themselves  away  ;  only  the  dead  remain. 

Listening  for  another  attack,  this  gentle  English  woman 
hears  moans  that  tell  her  what  she  has  done,  and  shud 
ders.  As  she  does  so  two  or  three  pistol  shots  tear 
through  the  door,  but  are  turned  aside  by  the  copper 
plates,  and  Errol  staggering  in  gasps  :  "  My  strength's 
come  back.  The  dizziness  has  gone.  I  fight  now!"  mo 
tioning  her  to  the  cover  of  the  wall.  Then  a  moment 
after  he  mutters  :  "  The  brutes  are  creeping  up  the  steps 
now.  Hear  'em !  "  and  falling  down  on  his  hands  and 
knees,  being  too  weak  to  walk,  drags  himself  to  the  door 
and  rakes  with  a  volley  from  his  lower  battery  the  surface 
of  the  stairs.  Shrieks  and  yells  follow  this  discharge,  but 
the  next  instant  there  is  an  awful  impact  on  tke  door. 
Taking  a  beam  of  wood  and  dashing  up,  the  attacking 


MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  71 

party  have  nearly  knocked  it  off  its  hinges.  Seeing  their 
success,  they  draw  back  for  another  charge,  and  Errol  list 
ening  waits,  and  as  they  come  again,  raps  the  ten  center 
cartridges  right  into  their  column  with  fearful  effect.  Few 
outcries  follow  this  discharge;  the  men,  bending  down  to 
give  greater  force  to  the  blow,  have  mostly  been  shot 
through  the  head.  But  Lady  Annerley  can  hear  the  beam 
drop  from  their  lifeless  hands,  and  the  few  that  fly  slip  in 
the  blood  and  stagger  over  the  bodies  that  clog  up  the 
stairs. 

She  shudders  as  Errol  mutters  proudly  :  "  That  was  a 
settler,  they'll  not  try  to  rush  this  door  again  !  "  Then  he 
makes  her  sit  down  in  the  shelter  of  the  wall  and  goes 
off,  walking  wearily,  but  in  a  way  that  causes  her  a  sigh  of 
relief,  for  she  can  see  that  excitement  is  gradually  dispell 
ing  the  effects  of  the  opium.  A  moment  after  he  returns 
with  a  cup  of  water  and  says  :  '•'  Drink  !  The  night  is 
hot.  You're  deathly  pale.  You're  not  used  to  this  !  " 

"  No,"  she  mutters  dismally,  "  Fin  not  used  to  killing 
people !  Oh  my  God,  those  wretched  cries  still  rend  my 
ears  !  "  then  clutches  the  cup  and  drinks  greedily. 

While  she  does  this,  he,  trying  to  console  her,  is  say 
ing  :  "The  danger's  over  for  a  while  now.  Don't  get 
nervous;  "  then  suddenly  pauses  and  whispers  :  "  Hush  !  " 
and  listens  with  all  his  might. 

Lady  Annerley  listens  also  and  can  hear  the  faint  jingle 
of  the  donkey  bells  in  the  court-yard,  and  now  knows  why 
they  were  placed  there.  For  Errol  cries :  "  Good  heav 
ens  !  They  are  attacking  the  front  entrance  !  Watch 
this  door  while  I  defend  the  front !  "  and  seizing  his 
Remington,  half  runs,  half  staggers  from  her  sight  out 
through  the  main  room  to  his  shooting  stand  on  the 
little  balcony  that  overlooks  the  court-yard  of  the  house. 

Shortly  after  she  can  hear  the  sound  of  his  rifle  and 
the  answering  shots  of  their  foes,  and  listens  to  them,  half 
thinking  that  this  is  all  a  dream,  and  she  will  wake  up 
in  her  lovely  English  home  or  her  grand  hotel  in  Paris  ; 
for  the  past  few  days  of  her  life  have  hardly  seemed  real 
to  Sarah  Annerley.  This  brings  her  to  pondering  on  the 
curious  fate  that  has  brought  her  to  Egypt,  and  to  this 
man  who  is  fighting  her  battle  so  truly,  her  father's  sud 
den  death  in  Italy,  her  hurried  journey  to  catch  Errol 
before  he  left  Alexandria  for  Australia.  She  thinks  ;  "  I 


7«  MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

came  here  to  tell  him.  Now  I  dare  not  let  him  know.  I'll 
get  the  packet  back  from  him.  I  could  not  live  to  bear  his 
hate  or  contempt,  now  that  I  love  him  !  " 

Thus  working  herself  into  an  agony  she  mutters  :  "  My 
father  when  alive  made  my  life  unhappy  ;  now  in  his 
death  he  has  destroyed  me  !  "  Next  suddenly  cries  out : 
"  Curse  him  and  his  death-bed  confession  !  "  and  sobs 
and  beats  her  hands  about,  forgetting  in  the  agony  of 
despair  the  din  of  battle  that  is  around  her. 

But  she  is  brought  out  of  this  spasm  by  an  heroic  rem 
edy,  for  some  sneaking  creature,  a  cowardly  Egyptian 
fellaheen,  here  fires  a  revolver  at  her  through  the  door, 
and  directing  his  pistol  at  her  noise,  puts  a  bullet  through 
her  dress,  which  is  pretty  close  practice,  as  she  wears  a 
modern  costume.  Perhaps  he  would  fire  again,  but  a 
comrade's  voice  is  heard  beside  him  saying  :  "  Unseeing 
dog,  would  you  kill  a  thousand  purses  of  gold  ? " 

All  this  makes  her  spiteful.  She  springs  to  the  door, 
and  rapping  at  the  cartridges  with  hysterical  vigor,  gives 
them  a  whole  diagonal  volley  from  right  to  left,  wounding 
or  frightening  both  the  men,  for  the  two  run  howling  into 
the  street. 

Listening  and  hearing  no  noise  upon  the  stairs,  the 
English  lady  tries  to  discover  and  count  the  shells  that 
have  been  discharged.  There  are  only  nineteen  loaded 
ones  left.  At  this  she  becomes  down-hearted.  They 
will  not  be  enough  if  there  is  another  strong- attack,  but 
for  the  present  no  more  come  to  face  the  fatal  door. 

The  firing  has  also  died  away  at  the  front  of  the 
house  ;  she  fears  Errol  may  be  wounded,  and  darts  to  his 
succor,  and  as  she  does  so  a  resolution  comes  to  her  that 
has  greater  effect  upon  the  lives  of  both  than  she  imag 
ines  as  she  makes  it. 

As  Errol  lies  down  at  his  shooting  stand,  protected  by 
a  light  stone  balustrade  perhaps  two  feet  high,  the 
open  air  of  the  court-yard  drives  away  the  effects  of 
the  drug  that  is  in  his  system  ;  his  head  gets  clearer,  his 
nerves  steadier,  and  his  muscles  stronger.  He  begins  to 
feel  confidence  in  his  shooting  powers  once  more,  for  he 
knows  his  weapon,  and  has  used  it  before  against  living 
things,  which  is  much  better  preparation  for  such  a  fight 
than  any  practice  in  the  shooting  gallery  or  even  before 
the  butts  in  the  open  field. 


MR.    POTTER    ©F    TEXAS.  7J 

He  peers  out  into  the  court-yard  which,  shadowed  by 
high  houses,  is  so  dark  he  can  see  nothing,  though  the 
sky  above  him  is  bright  with  the  reflection  of  the  fire 
that  is  now  eating  out  the  heart  of  the  town.  Bringing 
his  Remington  to  bear  upon  the  passage  opening  into 
the  court  where  he  has  hung  his  first  string  of  bells,  he 
listens  anxiously,  for  he  must  shoot  by  ear,  not  by  eye. 

Not  a  sound  comes  up  to  him,  and  he  almost  thinks 
the  attacking  party  have  gone  back  when  he  gets  a  sud 
den  and  awful  surprise — the  bells  on  the  second  string, 
the  one  on  the  stair-case  not  ten  feet  from  him,  sound  an 
alarm.  His  foes,  having  crossed  the  bells  in  the  passage 
way  while  he  has  been  defending  the  back  entrance  with 
the  mitrailleuse,  have  all  this  time  been  silently  creep 
ing  nearer  and  nearer  to  him,  and  are  at  the  very  thresh 
old  of  the  great  room. 

As  this  flashes  upon  the  Australian  his  Remington 
flashes  also,  and  in  thirty  seconds  he  pumps  four  shots 
into  the  crowd  on  the  stair-way,  who  have  suddenly 
stopped  at  the  unlooked-for  noise. 

One  man  falls  and  two  others  stagger  moaning  away, 
while  the  rest  skulk  silently  through  the  gloom,  retreat 
ing  across  the  court-yard  to  gain  the  passage  to  the 
street. 

Here  they  come  to  grief  again,  for  Errol  has  his  rifle 
bearing  upon  the  spot,  and  the  moment  he  hears  the  bells 
hung  at  that  place  jingle,  pumps  three  more  bullets  into 
the  darkness  that  give  him  back  a  death-cry  and  some 
more  Moslem  groans.  No  danger  coming  to  them  when 
they  had  rung  the  bells  upon  their  advance,  the  motley 
crew  of  Osman  and  Niccovie  had  thought  these  things, 
that  now  bring  them  destruction,  an  accident,  and  so 
failed  to  remove  them. 

One  or  two  from  a  sheltered  angle  of  the  passage-way 
return  his  fire  ;  of  the  balance,  those  who  are  able  do  not 
stop  till  they  reach  the  street. 

Everything  is  silent  for  about  a  minute,  then  a  voice 
is  heard  speaking  to  him  out  of  darkness  :  "Giaour,  you 
know  me.  I  am  Niccovie  the  Levantine,  whose  breath 
smells  sweet  with  truth."  Bang!—"  A-a-a-aup  !  " 

This  last  is  a  howl  of  agony,  with  a  twist  at  the  end  of 
it,  such  as  dogs  give  on  moonlight  nights,  for  the  Greek, 
becoming  excited,  had  popped  his  head  out  of  shelter, 


74  MR.    POTTER    OF   TEXAS. 

and  Errol,  firing  at  the  voice,  had  hit  it  and  knocked  three 
teeth  through  the  Levantine's  cheek. 

The  Australian  bursts  into  a  roar  of  laughter,  for  the 
shrieks  and  exclamations  of  Mr.  Niccovie,  though  piteous, 
are  very  funny  ;  but  just  here  the  young  man  gets  a  sur' 
prise  himself,  for  the  body  of  a  gigantic  Nubian  lying  on 
the  stair-way  in  front  of  him,  that  he  has  thought  one  of 
the  dead,  rises  suddenly  up  and  fires  a  pistol  straight  at 
him.  The  distance  is  about  ten  feet,  and  Errol  is  lucky 
to  escape  with  a  flesh  wound  in  his  left  arm.  The  Nu 
bian  darts  into  the  darkness  of  the  court-yard,  and  the 
Australian  brings  his  rifle  to  bear  upon  the  passage 
through  which  he  knows  the  man  must  pass  to  escape 
,  and  listens  for  the  tinkling  of  the  bells.  The  moment  he 
hears  them  he  shoots  and  the  Nubian  drops  dead,  a  bullet 
between  his  eyes.  Before  he  can  fire  again  he  hears  the 
sound  of  the  string  of  bells  being  torn  down  and  thrown 
away  as  the  attacking  party  have  seen  the  fearful  in 
crease  of  danger  this  noise  brings  to  them. 

Then  comes  a  lull,  which  Errol  employs  in  binding  a 
handkerchief  around  his  wounded  arm,  and  finds  the  loss 
of  a  little  blood  has  driven  the  last  of  the  opium  from  his 
brain.  He  recharges  the  magazine  of  his  gun,  and  wipes 
the  perspiration  from  his  forehead,  for  this  fighting  has 
been  hot,  sharp  work. 

As  he  lies  there  Lady  Annerley  opens  the  door  from  the 
main  room  and  whispers,  "  Are  you  safe  ?  " 
"  Yes  !  " 
"  Thank  God  !  " 

"  Go  out  of  this  danger  !  Quick  !  "  commands  Errol, 
but  she  lies  down  also  behind  the  parapet  and  watches 
with  him. 

After  a  few  minutes'  silence  Lady  Annerley  says  under 
her  breath  :  "  They  have  all  gone  away  from  the  back 
of  the  house,  perhaps  they  have  fled  from  here  also." 
"  If  I  had  a  fire-ball  I'd  find  that  out  I  " 
"  A  fire-ball ;  what  is  that  ? " 

And  he  describing  it  to  her,  she  crawls  into  the  house 
and  shortly  after  brings  him  her  pocket-handkerchief 
soaked  in  oil  from  ihe  lamp. 

Lighting  this,  Errol  throws  it  into  the  court-yard, 
where  it  burns  itself  out  upon  the  flagstones,  showing 
that  all  but  the  dead  have  deserted  the  place. 


MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS.  75 

"  They  are  gone  !  "  she  cries  joyously. 

"  Yes,  for  reinforcements.  When  they  come  back 
it'll  be  worse  !  "  he  returns  grimly.  Which  is  true,  for 
Osman  and  Niccovie  had  not  brought  any  great  num 
ber  of  men  with  them,  not  wishing  to  pay  too  many,  and 
thinking  their  booty  sure  and  easy  of  capture.  Disap 
pointed  in  their  first  onslaught,  they  have  gone  to  get 
enough  of  the  rabble  cf  the  city  to  make  their  next  attack 
certain  of  success. 

After  a  moment's  consideration  Errol  goes  on  :  "  I've 
too  much  to  do  to  stay  nere  and  watch  for  them.  I'll 
take  the  chance  !  "  Then  he  crawls  carefully  down  the 
stairs  into  the  darkness,  and  after  a  minute  Lady  An- 
nerley  can  hear  the  jingling  of  the  bells  as  he  replaces 
them  in  the  position  from  which  they  have  been  torn,  and 
gives  a  sigh  of  relief  when  he  is  at  her  side  again  for  she 
knows  his  danger  has  been  very  great. 

"  Not  a  beggar  down  there,"  he  says.  He  does  not 
care  to  tell  her  of  the  three  bodies  he  has  stumbled  over 
in  the  passage-way  that  made  the  bells  jingle  in  his  hand 
despite  his  caution.  "  Now,  into  the  house !  Quick ! 
I've  lots  of  work  to  do  before  the  beasts  return !  " 

"  Work  ?  You've  had  no  food  since  breakfast.  You 
must  eat  first  !  " 

But  he  shakes  his  head. 

"  For  my  sake  !  "  begs  Lady  Annerley. 

"Well,  if  you'll  help  me,  I'll  work  and  eat  together  !  " 

And  he  goes  about  the  business  he  has  set  himself  to 
do,  while  she  ministers  to  him,  bringing  him  what  dain 
ties  she  can  lay  her  hands  on  ;  then,  blowing  up  the  fire 
in  the  brazier,  makes  him  coffee. 

First,  Errol  rouses  Martin  out  from  her  place  of  hid 
ing,  and  putting  the  auger  in  her  hand  drags  her  to  the 
door  of  the  large  room  that  opens  upon  the  stairway 
leading  up  from  the  court-yard  and  main  entrance. 
This  door  is  equal  in  strength  to  the  one  that  as  a  mi 
trailleuse  has  been  so  fatal  at  the  secret  portal  in  the  rear. 

"  Bore  this  full  of  holes,  too,"  he  cries.  "  Point  'em 
downward  !  " 

"  The  heathens  might  shoot  me  !  "  murmurs  the  maid 
hysterically. 

"  If  you  don't  work  I'll  throw  you  out  into  the  street, 
by  Heaven  ! " 


7  MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS. 

Thus  adjured,  Martin,  sobbing,  makes  a  strong  attack 
with  the  auger  upon  the  door,  and  soon  has  it  full  of  holes. 

While  she  is  doing  this,  Errol,  with  his  mouth  full,  and 
a  cup  of  coffee  beside  him,  is  in  the  room  from  which 
Osman  fled,  replacing  the  discharged  shells  of  his  mi 
trailleuse  with  loaded  cartridges. 

This  done,  he  returns  to  the  large  apartment,  and  find 
ing  Martin  has  made  about  forty  holes  in  the  main  door, 
he  plugs  each  of  these  with  a  Remington  loaded  shell, 
and  secures  them  in  place  by  some  wire-netting  he  tears 
out  of  one  of  the  windows  and  nails  to  the  back  of  the 
door.  Then  he  says  to  Lady  Annerley  :  "  If  they  come 
in  a  crowd  and  are  too  strong  for  me,  or  I  am  disabled, 
lock  this  door,  and  shoot  the  volley  right  in  the  wretches' 
faces.  It'll  be  no  good  ten  feet  off  !  "  For  Martin  has 
bored  the  holes  in  an  hysterical  way,  and  they  point  up 
and  down  and  to  all  the  points  of  the  compass. 

Next  he  looks  at  his  watch,  and  mutters  :  "  By  George  ! 
three  o'clock  in  the  morning.  They'll  be  upon  us  soon  !  " 
and  a  second  afterward  suddenly  turns  to  Lady  Anner 
ley,  and  cries  :  "  Give  me  the  pistols  and  knives  that  you 
took  from  the  Greek  and  the  Armenian  !  " 

Lady  Annerley  silently  brings  him  two  daggers  and 
one  revolver. 

"  There  was  another  pistol  !  " 

"  That  one  is  for  me,  at  the  last,  if  the  worst  comes  !" 

"  You — you  intend  to " 

"  To  kill  myself  ?  Certainly  !  "  mutters  the  woman, 
with  pale  lips  but  blazing  eyes.  "  The  Arab  boy  told 
me.  They  say  I  will  sell  for  a  thousand  purses."  Then 
she  strides  up  to  Martin  and  in  a  kind  of  hysteria  laughs  : 
"You  will  bring  but  a  hundred — you  are  cheap!"  then 
cries  :  "  Take  a  pistol  and  at  the  last,  kill  yourself  if  you 
are  a  woman  !  " 

To  this  her  maid  only  answers  by  hiding  herself  in 
the  darkness  of  the  next  room  and  sobbing  more  loudly. 

Errol  says  nothing,  seeing  Sarah  Annerley  is  deter 
mined  and  has  a  spirit  to  do  desperate  things  when  she  is 
driven  to  despair  by  hopelessness  and  misery.  A  moment 
after,  however,  he  takes  her  by  the  hand  and  whispers : 
"  You're  a  brave  woman,  but  keep  cool  ;  remember, 
five  shots  for  them— and  the  other  only  at  the  last— the. 
very  lasts" 


MR.   POTTER  OF   TEXAS.  77 

Holding  his  hand,  her  hand  trembles  and  her  heart  beats 
faster  and  she  remembers  ;  she  says  to  him  :  "  Charley— 
I  beg;  your  pardon,  Mr.  Errol  "—turning  away  her  face, 
for  it  is  the  first  time  she  has  called  him  by  his  Christian 

«  That's  right.  We've  been  good  comrades,  haven't 
we  ?  Call  me  Charley  !  " 

"Well,  then,  Charley,"  here  she  gives  a  great  blush  ; 
"  I  gave  you  a  packet !  " 

"  Yes,  containing  some  revelation  or  other. 

"  If  I  die  and  you  live,  send  it  to  your  father  un 
opened  ! " 

«  Yes  ! " 

"  If  we  both  live,  give  it  back  to  me  ! 

"  But  you  told  me " 

"  As  you  are  a  man,  give  it  back  to  me  !  for  my  hap 
piness  !  Pity  me  !  Give  it  back  to  me  unopened  and 
unread  !  "  This  she  begs  him  with  tears,  and  sighs,  and 
pleadings  that  astonish  him,  but  are  unnecessary,  for  he 
returns : 

"  Certainly,  if  you  ask  it.    The  packet  is  yours,  but  you 

"  I'm  a  woman  and  have  changed  my  mind,"  the  last 
with  half  a  smile.  Then  she  becomes  very  serious  again, 
and  says  :  "  Remember,  if  we  both  live,  you  have  prom 
ised  on  your  honor  to  give  that  packet  back  to  me  ! ' 

"  Of  course  I  will  !  It  is  in  my  pocket  in  the  other 
room,"  he  replies,  for  the  night  has  been  so  oppressive 
he  has  been  working  and  fighting  in  his  shirt.  Passing 
his  hand  over  his  eyes,  after  a  moment  he  goes  on  : 
"  Now  a  promise  from  you.  In  case  I  die  and  you  are 
saved,  just  drop  a  line  to  my  dear  old  father  telling  him 
how  I  thought  of  him  at  the  last." 

"  Don't  fear  !"  she  returns.  "  I'll  remember^  you  who 
fell  fighting  forme— for  me  whom  you  should— "  but  here 
for  the  first  time  she  notices  Errol's  wounded  arm,  and 
Sarah  Annerley  gives  way  and  dropping  her  head  ?  upon 
his  knee,  bursts  into  tears,  and  cries  "  For  me  ! "  and 
kisses  the  man's  hand,  calling  him  her  preserver  and  her 
savior,  though  he  ought  to  hate  her,  in  a  hysterical  way, 
which  makes  him  fear  the  strain  has  been  too  great  for 
her  mind. 

Sitting  thus  in  the  gloom  of  the  half -lighted  room,  the 


MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 


roar  of  arson  and  riot  rising  to  their  ears  from  the  burn 
ing  city,  to  these  two  comes  the  horror  of  waiting—  wait 
ing  to  be  attacked  They  dare  not  sleep,  though  Ihey  are 
cruelly  tired  ;  they  dare  hardly  breathe,  they  must  listen 
so  intently  for  warning  noises,  for  the  court-yard  is  too 
black  for  seeing  ;  they  can  only  wait. 

The   ticking   of   Errol's   watch   at   first    relieves  the 

:lence,  and  this   has   become   monotonous    and  dreary 

when  Lady  Annerley  suddenly  whispers,  "  Hist  !  "  and 

he  mutters,  "  It  has  come  !"  for  at  the  outer  entrance  of 

the  court  the  little  bells  give  forth  their  tinkling  warning; 

Errol  crawls  upon  the  balcony  but  can  see  nothing,  and 

desperately  fires  at  the  sound.     To  the  report  of  his  £un 

comes  the  rush,  not  of  a  few  men  but  of  a  hundred,  and 

he  cries  out  for  a  fire-ball  so  he  can  see  where  best  to 

direct  his  shots. 

But  there  is  no  time  to  make  one  now,  and  Lady  An 
nerley  desperately  throws  out  the  burning  lamp  into  the 
center  of  the  court-yard. 

Descending  in  a  whirl  of  flame,  this  falls  upon  and 
breaks  over  the  head  of  an  Arab,  deluging  his  cotton  gar 
ments  with  kerosene  and  setting  him  on  fire  ;  while  the 
wretch  runs  about  giving  out  horrid  cries  and  screams 
and  lighting  up  the  yard,  showing  it  full  of  Bedouins 
Copts,  Moslems,  Turks,  and  Soudanese  grotesquely  armed' 
the  desperate  scourings  of  the  Moslem  streets. 

By  the  light  of  this  human  fire-ball  Errol  sees  this  fan 
tastic  crowd,  with  jabbering  cries,  forming  in  solid  column 
to  charge  the  stairs,  careless  of  the  awful  fate  of  their 
comrade  ;  who,  with  shrill  shrieks  that  pierce  the  air  and 
great  bounds  of  agony,  is  burning  up  alive  as  he  dances 
the  court-yard  round. 

This  whole  thing  passes  in  a  second  ;  the  next  the  Aus 
tralian  turns  loose  his  breech-loader  on  the  head  of  the 
column,  and  though  each  shot  probably  carries  with  it  a 
life,  instead  of  stopping  them  it  only  makes  them  come 
on  quicker  ;  and,  the  magazine  of  his  rifle  being  empty  he 
runs  to  the  head  of  the  stairs.  Firing  his  revolver  at  the 
leaders  of  the  rush,  he,  pursued  by  a  volley,  flies  in  the 
door,  and  bars  it,  the  English  lady  helping  him.  The  next 
instant  the  human  battering  ram  strikes  it  with  a  bang- 
and  he  cries  :  "  Shoot  'em  before  their  weight  forces  it  !" 
With  this  she  is  at  the  door,  the  hammer  in  her  hand 


MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  79 

exploding  the  cartridges  that  have  made  contact  with  the 
door  death,  and  he  with  Osman's  dagger  goes  to  work 
upon  them  also. 

As  the  bullets  pierce  the  leaders  of  the  rush  and  they 
fall  dying,  others  are  forced,  by  the  pressure  of  those 
charging  in  the  rear,  against  this  door  that  spouts  forth 
destruction.  And  as  they  are  stricken  down,  those  behind 
them  are  pressed  against  the  exploding  shells,  until  the 
struggle  to  escape  death  becomes  greater  than  the  force 
of  those  behind  ;  and  panic  seizes  the  mob,  who  run  away. 

Hearing  this  Errol  tries  to  open  the  door  to  give  them 
a  parting  shot ;  but  cannot,  there  are  too  many  dead  and 
wounded  lying  against  it.  However,  some  of  these  last 
succeed  in  crawling  away,  and  he  gets  the  door  open 
wide  enough  to  squeeze  himself  out,  tumbling  over  the 
body  of  a  Turk,  who  jabs  a  knife  in  his  leg  and  gasps, 
"  For  Allah  !  "  as  he  dies. 

On  the  balcony  the  young  man,  by  the  early  morning 
light,  which  is  just  streaking  the  east,  shoots  two  or  three 
wounded  who  are  escaping,  for  this  stab  has  made  him 
merciless.  Then  he  staggers  in,  for  he  hears  a  fusilade 
coming  from  the  back  entrance  to  the  house.  Osman  and 
Niccovie  have  led  their  followers  round,  and  are  trying 
to  force  it. 

As  he  gets  into  the  main  room,  Errol  sees  he  must 
bind  up  his  wound  or  he  will  lose  his  strength.  Know 
ing  the  door  with  its  fifty  shots  cannot  be  forced  imme 
diately,  he  sits  down  and  finds  he  has  two  ;  one,  the  stab 
in  the  calf  of  the  leg,  and  the  other  from  a  bullet  that 
has  come  through  the  door,  and  being  partially  spent, 
has  glanced  round  his  ribs.  In  the  excitement  of  the 
combat  he  has  not  noticed  it  before. 

As  he  dresses  them  the  fusilade  ceases,  and  Lady  An- 
nerley  comes  to  him,  her  beautiful  face  black  with  pow 
der,  but  blazing  with  excitement,  and  cries  proudly  :  "  I 
beat  them  off — alone  !  "  and  then  more  sadly  :  "but  fired 
every  cartridge  in  the  door  to  do  it." 

"  If  they  come  again,  I  can  spare  no  more  ! "  says 
Errol,  gloomily,  inspecting  his  ammunition,  "  I  need  all 
the  rest  for  my  rifle." 

The  next  instant  there  is  a  yell  from  Martin,  who  has 
taken  refuge  on  the  roof  to  get  as  far  from  this  last  fight 
as  possible.  As  Errol  springs  up  to  her  cry  the  servant* 


8o  MR.    POTTER  OF  TEXAS. 

girl  comes  down  the  steps  screaming :  "  There  are  men 
up  there — men!"  Cautiously  putting  his  head  through 
the  scuttle  the  young  man  sees  that  she  has  exaggerated 
the  matter  but  only  a  very  little. 

No  one  is  already  upon  the  roof  of  this  house,  but  a 
number  of  men  are  on  the  top  of  the  next  one.  It  is 
a  little  higher  than  that  of  Abdallah's  dwelling,  and 
there  is  only  fifteen  feet  of  space  between  them.  All  this 
he  can  easily  discern,  for  the  morning  is  advancing  rap 
idly. 

^  As  Errol  brings  his  Remington  to  bear,  a  lithe-limbed 
Soudanese  has  taken  a  short  run  in  order  to  spring  across 
the  chasm.  The  Australian  has  been  accustomed  to 
kangaroo-shooting,  and  as  the  man  jumps  he  dies  in 
mid-air.  This  unexpected  attack  makes  his  foes  retreat 
for  a  moment,  and  gives  the  young  man  time  to  look 
around  him.  Instinctively  his  eyes  turn  to-  the  water, 
from  which  their  only  relief  can  come,  and  he  gives  a  cry 
of  joy,  for  by  the  early  morning  light  he  can  see  armed 
boats'  crews  from  the  men-of-war  landing  on  the  Marina. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  asks  Lady  Annerley,  who  is  standing 
below  him  on  the  stair  handing  him  up  some  cartridges 
for  his  rifle. 

"  English  sailors  !  "  he  cries.  "  We  are  saved  !  "  but  the 
next  minute  sighs  :  "  I'm  afraid  they  come  too  late  !  " 

For  he  sees  the  crowd,  increased  by  numbers  the  firing 
has  drawn  to  the  spot,  preparing  to  jump  onto  the  roof 
en  masse,  while,  to  keep  his  fire  down,  a  fusilade  is 
opened  on  him  from  several  house-tops  ;  and  as  the  bullets 
come  singing  by  he  recognizes  the  crack  of  the  Martini- 
Henry  rifle,  cind  knows  he  has  now  against  him  Egyptian 
soldiers  who  have  deserted  from  Arabi's  army. 

At  this  moment  Lady  Annerley  cries  from  below :  "  They 
are  forcing  the  back  door  !  "  and  he,  hearing  the  sound 
of  the  blows  upon  it,  feels  his  hour  has  come — but  only 
for  a  moment. 

In   the  ^next  that  dogged,  never-say-die,  fight- to-the 
death  spirit  that  has  won  the  Anglo-Saxon  race  so  many 
battles  and  such  glorious  victories,  when  Hope  has  turned 
her  back  upon  them  and  Death  has  set  his  hand  upon 
them,  comes  to  him,  and  he  cries  :   "  FOLLOW  ME  !     I'M 

GOING  TO  FIGHT  OUR  WAY  TO  THE  ENGLISH  BOATS  !  " 

As  his  voice  rings  out  these  brave  words,  the  woman 


MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 


who  has  only  loved  him  before  now  adores  him.  Hastily 
giving  their  assailants  on  the  roof  one  or  two  shots  to 
check  their  advance,  Errol  runs  down  the  stairs  and  finds 
Lady  Annerley  waiting  with  Martin,  whom  she  has  just 
dragged  from  an  inner  room.  The  blows  upon  the  door 
at  the  back  of  the  house  warn  them  that  the  front  way  is 
their  only  chance  of  exit.  They  climb  over  the  corpses 
before  the  entrance  to  the  main  room  and  glide  down  the 
steps  into-  the  court-yard.  Errol  whispers  to  Lady  An 
nerley,  who  is  following  him  closely  :  "  Get  your  revolv 
er  ready  and  come  quickly  !  "  And  they  pass  through 
the  archway  and  into  the  street  unobserved,  and  to  their 
astonishment,  unopposed.  For  no  thought  of  their 
prey's  flight  having  ever  entered  Osman  or  Niccovie  s 
heads,  they  have  left  no  men  to  guard  the  mam  en 
trance  ;  and  the  audacity  of  the  attempt  has  so  far 
made  it  safe. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    AMERICAN    MARINES. 

IN  the  street,  however,  there  are  one  or  two  rioters  who 
on  seeing  them  set  up  a  shout,  but  run  away,  for  this  night's 
fight  has  made  Errol  a  terror  to  his  assailants. 

"  Now's  our  chance  !  Run  !  "  he  whispers,  and  begins 
to  move  quickly  ;  but  she  hangs  back  and  says,  «  Where's 
Martin  ? " 

"  If  Martin  is  not  here  she  is  lost.  By  heavens  !  they 
are  in  the  house  now  !  "  he  exclaims  as  a  yell  of  disap 
pointed  rage  comes  from  the  rabble  in  the  rooms  from 
which  they  have  fled.  "  Come,  it's  our  only  chance  ! 

Thus  adjured,  Lady  Annerley  darts  after  him,  but  the 
delay  has  been  fatal.  As  they  move  along,  a  band  of 
Arabs,  Nubians  and  Fellaheen  dart  round  the  corner  a 
the  street  and  head  off  the  retreat.  At  this  Errol  clinches 
his  teeth  and  cries  to  her :  "  Follow  me  closely,  I'll  cut 
our  way  through  !  "  and  runs  toward  them. 

They  fire  at  him,  but  their  old  matchlocks  and  super 
annuated  pistols  miss  him.  As  he  advances,  he  turns 
loose  his  Remington  and  wounds  two.  But  now  Lady 


82  MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 

Annerley  hears  a  noise  behind  her  and  looking  back  sees 
they  are  surrounded  ;  for  another  crowd  of  Moslems 
headed  by  Niccovie  in  person  are  issuing  from  the  house. 

This  only  makes  Errol  hasten  to  meet  the  first  party, 
wishing  to  break  through  them  before  the  others  come 
up. 

None  of  the  Arabs  fire  now,  perhaps  afraid  of  shooting 
each  other,  perhaps  because  Niccovie  cries  out  from  his 
bandaged  mouth  in  Eastern  jargon  :  "  Don't  kill  the 
woman,  she  is  too  valuable  !  " 

If  they  don't  fire,  Errol  does  and  drops  another  before 
they  get  to  him.  Then  he  suddenly  pulls  Lady  Anner 
ley  behind  him  into  a  retreating  corner  made  by  the  join 
ing  of  two  houses,  and  thus  having  his  enemies  in  front 
of  him,  opens  with  his  revolver.  Two  get  to  him  a  little 
quicker  than  the  rest  ;  one  a  wiry  Arab,  the  other  a 
savage-looking  black.  The  Arab  he  shoots.  As  he  does 
so,  Lady  Annerley  sees  the  black  raise  his  scimiter  to  strike 
the  life  she  has  learned  to  love,  and  a  mist  comes  before 
her  eyes  ;  but  in  that  mist  she  sees  her  own  revolver  raised 
and  smoke  coming  from  its  mouth  ;  and,  as  this  clears 
away,  the  black  is  dead. 

To  do  this,  she  has  to  step  a  little  out  from  the  wall, 
and  some  one  coming  behind  her,  seizes  her  round  the 
waist  and  drags  her  backward  away  from  the  man  who 
is  fighting  for  her. 

She  tries  to  get  her  hand  behind  her  to  shoot  the 
wretch  who  now  actually  carries  her  along  with  brutal 
jeers  and  mocking  laughter  ;  but  in  vain.  And  now 
others  join  him,  foolishly  coming  in  front  of  her,  and  get 
ting  winged  for  their  carelessness,  for  her  arm  is  free 
enough  to  shoot  before  her. 

All  this  she  does  silently  and  hopelessly  ;  the  first,  be 
cause  she  knows  that  to  call  Errol's  eyes  from  his  own 
personal  assailants  will  be  his  death  ;  the  second,  be 
cause  she  sees  that  every  moment  more  foes  bar  her 
way  to  his  protection.  Till  at  last  her  five  shots  are  all 
gone  and  she  despairs  ;  for  Niccovie's  face  is  leering 
into  hers  and  the  next  instant  her  pistol  will  be  torn 
from  her.  Even  now  he  speaks  to  her  as  if  he  owned 
her.  This  makes  her  desperate,  and  the  revolver's  muzzle, 
cold  and  chilly  as  the  death  it  gives,  is  pressed  against 
her  forehead,  for  the  last  moment  is  come,  the  last  bullet 


MR.   POTTER  OF   TEXAS.  83 

is  hers.  But  as  her  finger  presses  the  trigger  his  words 
buzz  in  her  head  :  u  Wait  till  the  very  last !  "  She  gives 
herself  five  seconds  more,  and  in  them  thinks  she  sees 
the  little  Arab  boy  hanging  to  Niccovie's  coat-tails  and 
that  a  cheer  is  sounding  round  the  corner ;  and  it  is 
Anglo-Saxon,  and  she  turns  her  hand,  and  the  shot  that 
was  to  kill  her  she  fires  into  the  Greek's  smiling  face. 
While  as  she  does  so  a  crashing  volley  sounds  in  her  ears, 
and  there  are  blue  uniforms  and  English  voices  and  rough 
but  tender  hands  about  her,  and  a  dandy  lieutenant 
shoots  with  one  hand  the  man  who  holds  her,  and  catches 
her  as  she  falls  with  the  other. 

Panting  and  dazed,  and  only  kept  upon  her  feet  by  this 
young  officer's  arm,  Sarah  Annerley  sees  in  the  hurly- 
burly  around  her  the  blue  uniforms  make  short  work  of 
the  Moslem  crowd  ;  the  lieutenant  shooting  two  as  he 
holds  her. 

Now,  all  this  makes  quite  a  cloud  of  smoke  and  dust, 
and  as  it  clears  away  she  notes  Niccovie  holding  a  broken 
jaw  in  one  hand,  and  a  large  sword  in  the  other,  pursu 
ing  little  Ammed,  who  is  dodging  for  his  life.  She  cries 
to  the  lieutenant,  "  Save  the  boy  !  " 

He  runs  after  the  Levantine,  calling  to  him  to  surren 
der  ;  but  Niccovie  only  answers  with  another  slash  at 
the  Arab  urchin.  Then  the  officer's  great  navy  revolver 
gives  a  puff  and,  though  thirty  yards  away,  the  Greek 
renegado  gives  a  yell  and  turns  round  to  find  out  what 
hurts  him,  but  dies  too  soon  to  be  quite  sure. 

During  this  Errol  has  staggered  up  to  Lady  Annerley, 
and  they  both  sit  down  on  a  couple  of  stones,  too  ex 
hausted  to  do  anything  but  gasp  for  breath  and  wipe 
away  the  dust  and  sweat  of  battle.  She  looks  at  him, 
and,  seeing  no  new  wounds  except  a  slight  scratch  upon 
his  forehead,  becomes  very  happy. 

Heading  his  men,  the  officer  soon  clears  Abdallah's 
home  of  rioters,  chasing  them  from  the  rooms  up  to 
the  roof,  and  then  over  the  neighboring  house-tops. 
Returning  from  this  to  the  street,  this  young  gentle 
man  (for  he  is  hardly  twenty-five),  who  has  fought  his 
fight  in  a  rough-and-ready,  free-and-easy  sort  of  a  way, 
produces  a  silk  handkerchief,  brushes  the  dust  off  his 
patent-leather  boots,  and  becomes  a  dandy  once  more. 

Approaching  them  he  gives  the  English  woman  a  mil* 


84  MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

itary  bow,  takes  off  his  cap  and  says  :  "  Lady  Annwley 
I  believe.  Permit  me  to  introduce  myself,"  and  prol 
ducing  a  card-case,  he  presents  : 


•Mr.  TCouston 

/ 

%.  $.   Ship   @uinnefiaug. 


As  she  has  been  looking  at  the  young  man,  the  lady 
lite  addresses  has  discovered  something  in  his  fine  face 
that  makes  it  familiar.  She  reads  his  card  and  all  this  be 
comes  clear  to  her.  She  cries  :  "  Why,  you're  Miss  Pot 
ter's  brother— the  naval  officer  !  " 

"Yes,  I'm  Miss  Potter's  brother;'  returns  the  gentle 
man,  with  a  little  laugh.  "  At  home  I'm  Mr.  Potter  of 
Texas'  son  ;  in  Europe,  Miss  Potter  of  Texas'  brother. 
The  ohly  place  I  have  an  identity  is  on  the  ship's  books." 

"  The  fate  of  being  related  to  such  distinguished  peo 
ple,"  smrles  Lady  Annerley,  for  Miss  Potter  is  the  reign 
ing  American  belle  in  Europe,  and  the  whole  of  fashion 
able  France  and  England  are  bowing  to  her  great  wealth 
and  greater  beauty.  "You  should  be  proud—"  but 
here  she  appears  to  be  astonished,  and  cries  :"  You're 
American  ! " 

'/  Certainly,  These  are  American  marines  !  "  and  as  he 
points  to  his  /nen  she,  for  the  first  time,  notes  that  their 
uniforms  are  not  English. 

*'  You  see,"  he  goes  on,  "  I'm  not  a  marine,  I'm  a  line 
officer.  I  volunteered  to  come  on  shore  on  your  account. 
Ida,  my  sister,  wired  me  from  Paris  by  the  telegraph 
ship,  the  CheltnaiH)  which  has  picked  up  the  European 
cable,  that  you  were  here,  and  to  look  after  you  ;  and  I 
might  have  looked  after  you  a  long  time,  had  it  not  been 
for  little  Ammed  waiting  for  us  at  the  Marina,  giving  me 
your  note  and  begging  me  '  Quick  !  Save  the  beaut-ful 
lady  ! ' '  With  this  he  pats  the  Arab  boy's  head,  who 
gazes  proudly  at  Lady  Annerley,  then  grins  in  the  lieuten 
ant's  face,  and  cuts  a  caper.  For  he  has  just  strolled  up 
to^them,  grand  in  the  possession  of  the  sword  of  the  kta 
Niccovie  which  he  carries  over  his  shoulder. 


MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  85 

Here  the  lady  says  suddenly  :  "  Excuse  me,  Mr.  Pot 
ter,  this  is  Mr.  Errol,  the  gentleman  who  fought  for  me 
all  night." 

"  Then,"  remarks  the  American,  "  I  congratulate  you 
on  your  champion.  I've  been  admiring  his  handiwork 
up  there,"  and  he  points  to  the  house  of  Abdallah  the 
Moor. 

"  You  never  learned  that  pistol  shooting  on  the  quarter 
deck  !  "  returns  Errol  as  the  two  men  shake  hands. 

"No,"  replies  the  American,  "my  father  taught  me 
that  as  a  boy,  in  Texas.  Can  we  smoke,  Lady  Annerley  ? " 
Then  he  produces  his  cigar  case  and  offers  one  to  Errol. 

Permission  being  given,  the  two  young  men  light  up  and 
the  lieutenant  says  :  ",I  must  call  my  men  back.  They  are 
fighting  too  much  and  killing  too  many.  We  only  came 
ashore  to  save  life,  but  the  sights  we  saw  as  we  forced 
our  way  here  have  made  the  men  very  savage.  They've 
seen  dead  Christian  women  and  wounded  little  children 
till  they  are  ready  to  butcher  every  Moslem  looter  in 
Alexandria.  Might  I  offer  you  my  escort  back  to  the 
house  ?  You  may  wish  to  change  your  dress  ; "  this  last 
a  little  significantly. 

"  I've  lots  of  clothes  at  the  Hotel  de  1'Europe.  Let's  go 
there.  Oh,  for  the  luxury  of  something  clean  !  "  cries 
Lady  Annerley.  Then  catching  the  lieutenant's  eye  she 
follows  it,  and  looking  at  herself  for  the  first  time  this 
morning,  hangs  her  head  and  mutters :  "  Oh,  how  aw 
ful  !  "  This  is  with  a  big  blush  that  they  don't  see,  her 
face  being  too  dirty.  For  she  is  one  grime  of  powder 
smoke  ;  a  lock  of  her  beautiful  hair  has  been  singed  off 
by  the  flame  of  the  lamp  that  she  threw  into  the  court 
yard  ;  her  dress  is  torn  to  rags,  and  there  is  a  great  red 
burn  upon  one  of  her  shapely  but  now  black  and  dirty 
arms. 

"  No,"  says  Errol  grimly,  judging  her  thought.  "You're 
not  the  woman  of  fashion  of  three  days  ago." 

Here  she  takes  a  look  at  Errol  and  cries  laughingly : 
"  But  you're  worse  !  "  for  he  is  simply  a  background  of 
dirt  daubed  with  blood. 

But  the  sight  of  his  blood  makes  the  laugh  leave  her 
voice,  which  becomes  so  tender  that  it  attracts  young 
Potter's  attention  as  she  goes  on:  "Wounded,  and  all 
for  me ! " 


86  MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

"  Oh,  I'm  quite  right,"  says  Errol,  getting  on  his  feet, 
but  so  stiffly  that  the  American  puts  his  arm  round  him, 
for  which  Lady  Annerley's  eyes  thank  him. 

Lady  Annerley's  thoughts  having  gone  back  to  dress, 
next  come  to  her  maid,  and  she  cries  :  "  Oh,  poor  Martin  I 
she  was  left  in  the  house  !  " 

"  Your  servant  is  all  right." 

"  Thank  Heaven  !  "  for  in  this  moment  of  safety  she 
thinks  kindly  even  of  Martin's  fears. 

"  But  your  dresses  are  all  gone." 

"Gone?" 

"  Yes.  The  Hotel  de  1'Europe  and  the  whole  Prankish 
quarter  are  nothing  but  blazing  ruins  !  "  Here  the  lieu 
tenant  points  to  the  smoke,  and  after  a  moment  sug 
gests  :  "  If  they  are  saved,  your  dresses  will  all  be 
very  black."  Then  thinks  he  has  made  a  faux  pas, 
and  stammers  a  little  as  he  says  :  "  I— I  beg  your  par 
don,  Lady  Annerley.  I — I  had  forgotten  you're  in 
mourning.  Your  father,  Sir  Jonas  Stevens,  died  in 
Italy." 

^  "  Yes,  only  three  weeks  ago.  I  came  here  direct  from 
his  death-bed."  As  she  mutters  this  the  woman's  eyes 
turn  to  Errol  with  a  beseeching,  appealing,  apologetic 
glance.  She  says  :  "  Remember  your  promise  !  " 

"  Oh,  about  that  packet  !  " 

"  Yes,  we  both  live  now  !  "  and  she  looks  at  him  as  if 
that  meant  a  great  deal  in  their  future. 

"  Of  course,  I'll  get  it  for  you.  It's  in  my  vest-pocket 
in  the  house." 

Then  they  all  stroll  up  the  street  and  into  the  little 
court-yard  ;  the  lieutenant,  careless  of  his  uniform,  help 
ing  Errol,  who  walks  quite  stiffly,  but  says  he'll  be  all 
right  in  a  week.  And  the  conversation  becomes  very 
animated  and  full  of  laughter,  for  the  sun  seems  to  shine 
very  brightly  in  Alexandria  this  morning  on  Lady  Anner 
ley  and  Errol ;  and  they  feel  as  if  they  have  come  a  long 
and  dangerous  journey  from  a  far  country,  where  death 
has  been  close  about  them  ;  and  the  world  they  have 
come  to  again  is  a  very  joyous  and  happy  one,  as  they 
listen  to  the  whinny  and  braying  of  Ammed's  donkeys 
in  the  stable,  and  the  chirping  of  the  birds  in  the  court 
yard.  Then  Lady  Annerley  tells  Errol  that  he  must  come 
to  Europe  and  she  will  give  him  the  entrtc  to  the  world 


MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  87 

of  fashion — her  world.  This  he  says  he'll  do,  after  he 
has  returned  to  Australia  to  see  his  father,  who  never 
leaves  that  country.  For  he  is  very  much  flattered  and 
rather  delighted,  as  what  young  man  wouldn't  be  with 
one  of  the  queens  of  the  beau  monde  half  begging  him, 
half  caressing  him  to  visit  her. 

But  this  mention  of  his  father  causes  her  to  start  and 
say  :  "  Your  promise,  quick  !  " 

"  Of  course  !  "  and  he  turns  toward  the  stairs. 

She  is  about  to  go  with  him,  but  the  lieutenant  stops 
her,  saying  :  "  The  sights  down  here  are  bad,  those  above 
are  worse  ;  by  daylight  they  would  shock  you  !  " 

"  I'll  bring  it  down  to  you  !  " 

"  Perhaps  I'd  better  go  for  you,  you're  not  quite  up  to 
much  exertion,"  suggests  young  Potter. 

"  No,  I  can  do  it ;  I've  got  some  other  things  to 
find,"  says  Errol  half  way  up  the  stairs,  and  seeing  the 
maid  on  the  balcony  laughs  :  "  Hello,  Martin,  all  right 
after  all  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir,  I'm  comfortable,"  grunts  the  servant-girl, 
"  except  as  my  boots  is  bloody  !  " 

Passing  on,  Errol  enters  the  house,  while  Martin  re 
mains  on  the  balcony  giggling  at  young  Ammed,  who  is 
getting  his  donkeys  out  of  the  stable  and  decorating 
them  with  the  strings  of  bells  of  which  they  have  been 
denuded,  while  Lady  Annerley  and  young  Potter  chat 
together  in  the  court-yard  below. 

They  are  talking  of  his  sister,  and  the  lady  is  saying  : 
"  Now  you  are  to  visit  me  also,"  when  the  noise  of  strug 
gle  and  a  smothered  cry  come  from  the  open  window, 
and  Martin  on  the  balcony  is  yelling  like  one  possessed. 
In  two  bounds  the  lieutenant  is  up  the  stairs  and  in  the 
house  ;  two  seconds  after  his  pistol  speaks. 

Lady  Annerley  hurries  after  him,  but  he  meets  her  at 
the  door  and  she  notices  his  face  is  pale.  "  You'd  better 
not  come  in  !  "  he  says  in  a  low  voice. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"These  things  happen  so  suddenly  sometimes — in 
war." 

"  It  was  Osman  killed  Mr.  Errol !  "  cries  Martin.  *'  I 
saw  it  through  the  window  !  " 

"You  idiot!"  exclaims  the  lieutenant,  "you  have 
killed  her !"  For  Sarah  Annerley,  who  had  fought  through 


MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 

all  the  carnage  and  bloodshed  of  that  awful  night  in  grim 
silence,  has  now  uttered  a  terrible  cry  and  fallen  senseless 
upon  the  pile  of  corpses  in  front  of  the  door. 

Calling  Ammed  to  summon  the  sergeant  in  charge  of 
his  men,  he  picks  up  the  English  lady,  carries  her  into 
the  mam  apartment,  and  says  to  Martin  savagely  •  "  Get 
some  water  and  bring  her  to.  The  man  needs  my  at 
tention  first,"  then  goes  to  look  at  Errol,  who  lies  moan 
ing  in  the  next  room,  a  terrible  knife  wound  in  his  side. 
As  he  is  making  his  examination,  the  sergeant  comes  in 
to  him  and  touches  his  cap. 

"  I  told  you  to  clear  the  house  of  rioters,  and  you  left 
a  man  in  it!  "  says  the  lieutenant  sharply. 

"Yes,  sir,  Mr.  Errol's  dragoman  !  " 

"  How  do  you  know  that  ? " 

"  He  showed  me  the  document  by  which  he  was  hired 
tackled  him  here  he  was  quietly  fixin'  his  boss' 
With  this  the  sergeant  of  marines  points  to 
the  Australian's  coat  and  vest  that  lie  near  the  wounded 


man. 


"  I  shall  hold  you  responsible  for  the  absolute  obedi 
ence  of  my  orders.  Get  me  the  paper  by  which  the 
scoundrel  proved  his  story  to  you  !  " 

"  How  can  I  ?  It's  in  his  pocket  and  he's  skipped  !  " 
mutters  the  sergeant,  bewildered. 

"  You'll  find  his  body  at  the  bottom  of  that  flight  of 
steps !  replies  Potter,  pointing  to  the  stairway  leading 
to  the  private  door. 

As  the  soldier  is  about  to  go  to  Osman's  body,  the 
lieutenant  calls  him  back  and  says  :  "  On  second  thought 
bring  me  all  the  papers  on  the  corpse— all  !  " 

Then  the  men  carry  Errol  down  to  the  Manna,  followed 
by  Ammed  and  Martin.  Mr.  Potter,  by  the  aid  of  the 
Arab  boy's  donkeys,  gets  Lady  Annerley  to  the  boats 
also,  though  she  is  half  fainting,  half  crazy,  and  wildly 
whispers  things  in  the  lieutenant's  ear  which  make  that 
young  man  open  his  eyes.  On  shipboard  the  surgeon 
looks  at  the  wounded  Australian  and  says  he  may  live, 
but  not  in  this  hot  climate. 

So  it  comes  to  pass  two  days  after  this  that,  the  P.  &. 
O.  steamer  Calcutta  being  ready  to  sail,  Lady  Annerley, 
pale,  careworn,  loveworn,  the  ghost  of  her  former  beau 
tiful  self,  stands  on  the  landing-stage  to  bid  good-by  to 


MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  89 

the  Arab  boy  and  Mr.  Potter.  She  has  not  the  strength 
;o  say  much,  but  she  pats  the  little  gamin's  head  and 
cells  him  he  is  to  be  educated  (she  has  arranged  this 
with  the  English  consul),  and  taking  the  officer  by  the 
hand,  she  murmurs  a  blessing  on  him  and  the  American 
marines  who  saved  her  as  they  did  many  other  Christian 
women  in  those  days  of  riot  and  carnage,  in  that  hot, 
looted  Egyptian  city. 

Mr.  Potter  and  the  boy  watch  the  receding  steamer, 
as  her  big  propeller  drives  her  through  the  anchored  fleets, 
en  route  for  Brindisi  and  Venice,  in  her  main  saloon 
Charley  Errol  of  Australia,  wounded  nigh  unto  death, 
and  raving  with  the  Nile  fever,  and  a  woman  nurs 
ing  him  like  an  angel  of  mercy,  and  weeping  over  ^him 
and  begging  him  to  live  for  her  sake  ;  then  wildly 
swearing  he  shall  not  die — this,  the  only  man  she  ever 
loved. 

The  Calcutta  fades  from  view,  and  Ammed,  chinking 
in  his  pockets  the  plethora  of  coin  Lady  Annerley  has 
put  in  them,  says  quietly  :  "  The  beau-ful  lady's  tears 
are  pearls,  but  she  has  no  more." 

"  No,"  mutters  the  lieutenant,  gloomily,  "  she's  hit  too 
hard."  Then  he  takes  to  meditating  in  a  cynical  way 
upon  the  affair,  thinking  :  "  George  !  she's  been  a  widow 
eighteen  months— a  widow  with  a  title  and  twenty  thou 
sand  pounds  a  year,  and  stood  it  out  against  every  buck 
and  blood  in  London  and  Paris  ;  yet  that  Australian,  in 
one  night's  fighting,  fought  himself  into  her  love — that's 
luck  !  "  A  minute  after  he  gives  a  half  sigh  and  mutters: 
"  Quackenboss,  our  sawbones,  says  they'll  toss  him  over 
board  between  here  and  Brindisi.  That  isn't  luck  !  I've 
half  a  mind  to  try  and  take  his  place.  Wonder  if  this 
cable  would  get  me  leave  on  the  ground  of  family  busi 
ness."  With  this  he  produces  a  message  and  reads  : 

"  POTTERSVILLE,    TEXAS,  July  14,   1882. 

"To  POTTER, 

"  U.  S.  ship  Quinnebang, 

"  Alexandria : 

"  Worried  about  Ida.  Texas  Sif tings  says  she  can  marry  a  duke. 
Send  the  girl  home  right  off — I'm  afraid  she's  getting  into  bad  com 
pany.  DAD." 

"  The  dear  old  boy  !  "  cries  the  lieutenant,  and  gives 


MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 


a  shriek  of  laughter,  but  it  is  cut  short  by  the  sergeant  of 
marines  who,  saluting,  says  :  "I've  been  on  duty  in  the 
town,  impossible  to  deliver  these  before.  The  papers 
found  on  the  body  of  Osman,  the  dragoman  !  " 

Among  these  documents  is  the  packet  given  by  Lady  An- 
tier  ley  to  Errol,  the  Australian. 


BOOK   II. 

ENGLISH  JUSTICE. 

CHAPTER   VIII. 

THE    GIRLS    HAVE   COME  ! 

THE  Calcutta  churns  her  way  through  the  Mediterra 
nean,  stops  at  Brindisi,  and  then  goes  on  to  Venice,  and 
somehow  they  get  Errol  to  this  place  not  yet  dead.  Here 
a  celebrated  doctor,  telegraphed  for  to  London,  meets 
them  and  says  :  "  No  farther  or  he  dies ! " 

And  so,  in  a  great  palazzo  on  the  Grand  Canal  that 
Lady  Annerley  engages,  they  stop  to  fight  the  last  round 
in  the  Australian's  battle  for  life  ;  which  goes  on  in  all 
the  terrible  ups  and  downs,  despairs  and  hopes,  of  such 
awful  combats. 

But  at  last,  with  the  nursing  of  love  and  the  aids  of 
wealth,  youth,  a  strong  constitution,  and  modern  science, 
death  is  driven  from  the  ring,  and  hope  takes  the  place  of 
despair  in  the  heart  of  the  woman  who  watches.  The  at 
tacks  of  delirium  become  fainter  and  less  frequent,  and,  as 
she  sees  this,  Sarah  Annerley  herself  becomes  better  ;  for 
she  has  fallen  down  to  a  shadow  of  herself.  As  Charley 
Errol  gains  strength,  she  regains  beauty,  until  one  morn 
ing  in  September  she  is  her  own  radiant  self,  as  Dr.  Lamp- 
son  feels  the  pulse  of  the  young  man  in  a  cheery,  never- 
say-die  manner  peculiar  to  him,  and  says  :  "  Killed  any 
more  kangaroos  in  your  deli — I  mean  your  dreams  last 
night,  Errol  ? " 

"  No,  not  even  a  rat-kangaroo,"  replies  the  patient, 
very  languidly  and  lazily,  as  he  stretches  his  long,  ema 
ciated  limbs. 


92  MR.   POTTER  OF  TEXAS, 

"Ah,  glad  to  hear  it.     Since  you've  given  up  killing  I 
think  I  may  say  that  you'll  live." 

"Was  it  so  near  as  all  that?"  asks  the  young  man, 
with  a  kind  of  wonder  in  his  blue  eyes  that  are  made  al- 
st  pathetic  by  the  deep  circles  disease  has  drawn  round 
them.     "  I  didn't  know  that  !  " 

11  No  you  knew  nothing.     All  you  did  day  and  night 
was  to  hunt  kangaroos." 

"George  !  didn't  I  hunt  them  !  "  re-echoes  the  patient. 

I  believe  I  ve  killed,  in  imagination,  about  all  in  Aus- 

There  was  always  one  big  fellow  who  used  to  run 

about  blazing,  giving  light  like  a  torch  for  me  to  shoot 

sm,  and  one  night  a  ferocious  old  man-kangaroo  had  me 

lown  and  would  have  murdered  me,  when  she  shot  him 

over  my  shoulder." 

"She? "says  the  doctor,  with  an  accent  of  surprise 
feeling  Enrols  pulse  again  surreptitiously  to  be  quite  sure 
ie  fever  has  not  again  returned  to  him. 
"Yes,  she,  the  lady  who  comes  every  day — the   one 
it  makes  this  room  look— well— look  as  it  does  -  "  and 
ie  young  man  gazes  at  a  bunch  of  Roman  roses  and 
I  arma  violets  that  lie  on  a  table  near  him.     "  You  didn't 
bring  those,  did  you  ?" 

—I— you  see— I  brought " 

'  No,  you  bring  only  medicine.     I  know  you,  doctor  • 
yot    1  say  I  excite  myself,  though  I've  been  sensible  these 
three  days,  but  sleepy,  oh,  how  sleepy  !     I've  liked  to  be 
sleepy;  because  when  I  was  sleepy   she   came  in  and 
looked  at  me.     If  my  eyes  appeared  to  see,  or  I  grew 
stless,  she  sneaked  out  again.     Then  I  laid  traps  for 
I  pretended  somnolence,  and  she  came  in  and  cried 
over  me  and  begged  me  to  forgive  her.     What  the  deuce 
should  I  forgive  the  angel  for?     Why,  I  hear  her  now  ; 
"  cries  the  young  man,  struggling  to  a  half- 
sitting  position  in  bed  and  pointing  eagerly,  for  at  this 
there  has  come  a  deep  feminine  sigh  from  behind  a  light 
screen  that  shields  a  little  corner  of  the  room  from  his 
gaze. 

"Confound  you  !  •'  grunts  the  doctor;  "if  you  don't 
keep  quiet,  young  man,  I'll  give  you  a  devil  of  a  dose  of 
quinine  !"  pushing  his  patient  down  on  to  the  pillows 
again. 

"  I  won't  keep  quiet  till  I've  seen  her !  " 


MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS.  $J 

"Go  to  sleep!" 

"  Yes,  with  one  eye  open  !  Doctor,  can't  you  see  I'm 
better  and  strong  ?  "  With  this  he  attempts  to  struggle 
up  in  bed  again,  then  says,  plaintively  :  "  How — how  sore 
my  side  is  !  My  heavens,  I  must  have  been  wounded  !  " 
sinks  down  and  looks  astounded. 

Here  from  behind  the  screen  comes  Lady  Annerley, 
who  cries  savagely  to  the  doctor  :  "  Don't  be  so  rough 
with  him  !  "  and  pushing  herself  between  the  physician 
and  the  patient,  arranges  the  pillows  and  settles  the 
young  man's  head,  upon  them,  giving  his  tossing  blonde 
locks  that  have  grown  very  long  in  his  months  of  illness 
a  surreptitious  caress. 

"There,"  she  says  smilingly,  "now  you've  got  your 
senses  back  again  I  shall  not  run  away  from  you  any 
more,  as  the  naughty  doctor  has  made  me  do — Charley  !  " 
As  she  murmurs  the  last  she  smothers  it  in  a  blush. 

"  You're  awfully  kind — to  a  stranger  !  Doctor,  please 
introduce  me.  I — what  have  I  done  ? "  stammers  Errol, 
astonished. 

For  Sarah  Annerley  has  risen  from  his  bedside  and  is 
standing  like  a  statue  of  despair,  murmuring  in  a  broken 
voice:  "He  don't  know  me.  My  heavens, forgotten /" 
and  then,  before  either  of  them  can  say  a  word,  she  is 
on  her  knees  holding  his  hand,  crying  :  "  Don't  you  re 
member  the  woman  you  fought  for,  the  woman  you  were 
wounded  for,  the  woman  you  nearly  died  for  ;  don't  you 
remember  Egypt  and  that  awful  night — and  ME  !  !  " 
Then  mumbling  over  his  hand  she  begs  of  him  to  "  think ! 
THINK!!  THINK!!!" 

The  last  "think!"  is  uttered  outside  the  door,  for  the 
doctor  is  upon  her  like  a  whirlwind  and  has  her  out  of  the 
room,  crying  :  "  Lady  Annerley,  remember  the  patient !  " 
Though  as  a  man  the  doctor  enjoys  the  sensuous  beauty 
that  this  brune  Niobe  makes  in  her  floating,  gauzy  dress 
that  outlines  her  graceful  pose  as  she  pleads  with  her  for 
getful  hero  ;  and  as  a  psychologist  he  is  struck  with  curi 
osity  that  any  one  should  forget,  like  Errol,  the  greatest 
crisis  of  his  life  ;  still  as  a  physician  he  is  horrified  at  the 
effect  of  such  excitement  on  his  patient.  He  says  very 
impressively  to  her  :  '*  How  dare  you  ? " 

"  Oh,  doctor,  he  did  not  remember  me  !  " 

"That'll  all  come  back  in  time,"  returns  the  doctor 


94  MR.   POTTER  OF  TEXAS. 

grimly.  "  Another  outburst  like  that  and  I'll  order  you 
not  to  come  into  the  sick-room  at  all." 

"  Not  let  me  in — his  nurse  ?  You — you  couldn't  get 
along  without  me  !  "  which  is  no  exaggeration,  for  Lady 
Annerley  has  for  two  months  been,  as  the  doctor  ex 
presses  it,  "  good  as  the  whole  staff  of  Guy's." 

"  I  shall  try  to,  at  all  events.  And  now,  Sarah,  I  want 
to  have  a  plain  talk  with  you,"  and  he  leads  her  from  the 
door  of  the  sick-room  to  a  little  antechamber,  where  the 
September  sun  comes  in  mellowed  and  tinted  by  the  col 
ored  awnings,  and  the  splash  of  the  gentle  ripples  of  the 
Grand  Canal  rising  softly  to  their  ears  seems  to  punctu 
ate  their  conversation. 

"  Ah,  you're  going  to  scold  me  !  I  know  you  are  !  "  re 
plies  Lady  Annerley.  "  You  always  call  me  Sarah  when 
you  are  about  to  say  something  that  is  cross.  Oh  !  you 
are  not  going  to  prevent  my  seeing  him  ;  don't  dare  to 
think  of  that.  I'll — I'll  restrain  myself.  I'll — I'll  do  any 
thing  !  "  This  last  is  said  with  a  tone  of  abject  humility 
that  almost  startles  him.  And  then,  as  if  picking  up 
courage,  she  gives  the  grim  doctor  a  kind  of  a  half  smile, 
and  continues  suddenly  :  "  But  we're  outside  the  sick 
room,  and  you  can't  bully  me  now  !  " 

"  If  bullying  is  asking  questions,  I'm  going  to  do  a 
good  deal  of  it,"  says  Lampson,  taking  a  pinch  of  snuff, 
the  abstinence  from  which  in  the  chamber  of  illness  has 
made  him  rather  surly.  "  Why  did  you  telegraph  me  to 
leave  my  big  practice  in  London  and  come  all  the  way  to 
Venice  to  pull  this  young  fellow  through  the  fever  ? " 

"  Because  I  had  no  faith  in  Italian  doctors  !  " 

"  Quite  right ;  neither  have  I ! "  assents  Lampson. 
"  But  it'll  be  a  pretty  expensive  little  affair  for  you." 

"  I  don't  care  how  much  you  charge  !  " 

"Ah  !  the  arrogance  of  wealth;  but  I'll  remember  it  in 
my  bill." 

Here  Lady  Annerley  suddenly  questions  him  :  "  Why 
didn't  you  ask  me  this  two  months  ago,  when  you  first 
came  here  ?  " 

u  Why  ?  because,"  says  the  doctor  leisurely,  "  I  had  too 
much  to  think  of  to  save  his  life.  Besides,  I  made  sure  you 
were  engaged  to  be  married  to  young  Errol — are  you  ? " 

"  Engaged  to  be  married  to  him  ?  "  There  is  a  kind  of 
fear  in  Sarah  Annerley's  voice  as  she  mutters  this. 


MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS.  95 

"  Yes,  it  wouldn't  be  so  awfully  horrible  as  your  tone 
indicates,"  says  old  Lampson  with  a  chuckle.  "  He's 
not  too  old  for  you,  and  when  he's  fatter  '11  be  very  hand 
some  ;  besides,  all  your  money  is  in  your  own  name  ;  your 
father,  the  late  Sir  Jonas  Stevens " 

"  Don't  talk  of  my  father  here  !  "  interrupts  his  listener 
in  a  gasp  of  grief  that  astonishes  the  doctor,  for  her  dead 
father's  treatment  of  Lady  Annerley  has  never  been  sup 
posed  by  the  world  in  general,  or  the  family  physician 
in  particular,  to  have  been  that  which  would  stimulate  a 
daughter's  affection.  "  Besides,"  she  goes  on,  "  wasn't 
his  risking  his  life  to  save  minaan  Egypt  enough  to  make 
me  give  any  amount  of  time  and  any  amount  of  money 
and — anything  else  to  save  his — oh  my  God  !  how  he 
fought  for  me  !  " 

"  Humph  !  "  says  Dr.  Lampson  thoughtfully,  "  what 
took  you  to  Egypt  anyway  ?  Every  one  expected  trouble 
there,  and  yet  two  days  after  your  father's  death  away  you 
sailed  to  plunge  into  war  and  bloodshed  in  Alexandria." 

"  I  went  there  on  business.  Mr.  Errol  was  going  to 
Australia.  I  wished  to  see  him  before  he  left  Egypt ;  I  had 
a  message  to  send  his  father.  Please  don't  cross-ques 
tion  me  or  1  shall  think  you  a  lawyer,  and  my  confidences 
to  a  physician  will  cease." 

Lady  Sarah  says  this  last  with  a  decided  snap  of  both 
eyes  and  voice. 

Lampson  doesn't  heed  this,  however,  and  goes  on  : 
"  Who  is  his  father  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Ralph  Errol  of  Melbourne  !  " 

"  Ralph  Errol!  I  believe  I've  heard  of  him  ;  one  of  their 
great  capitalists  out  there.  Humph  !  sure  of  my  fee  on 
both  sides  of  the  house,"  grunts  the  doctor.  "  What  the 
deuce  has  interested  you  in  Ralph  Errol  of  the  antip 
odes  ? " 

"  He — he  took  my  father's  place  out  in  Australia,"  re 
plies  Lady  Annerley,  with  a  peculiar  accent  and  hesita 
tion  in  her  voice,  as  she  turns  away  and  tries  to  look  out 
of  the  window. 

"  Ah  ! "  remarks  the  physician,  "  that  young  man's 
father  was  your  father,  Sir  Jonas  Steven's,  agent  across 
the  water." 

"  Yes,  he  represented  my  father's — banking  interest," 
mutters  my  lady,  whose  eyes  are  gazing  in  a  spasm  of 


?6  MR.    POTTER   OP    TEXAS, 

gloomy  meditation  over  the  bright  waters  of  the  Grand 
Canal  that  are  gilded  by  the  Italian  sim. 

She  hardly  knows  what  she  is  looking  at,  though  the 
Agitated  splash  of  the  water  on  the  stones  beneath  seems 
to  her  no  more  rapid  than  the  beating  of  her  heart  ;  for 
this  mention  of  her  father  has  set  some  awful  thoughts 
buzzing  in  her  brain  ;  and  if  the  doctor  could  only  see 
her  hands  he  would  know  that  she  was  grasping  the  win 
dow-frame  to  support  her  body,  which  is  trembling  with 
some  peculiar  emotion. 

Not  noticing  this,  old  Lampson  grimly  cogitates : 
"  Rage  destroys  diplomacy.  I'll  get  the  truth  of  my  lady 
by  making  her  angry,"  and  continues  the  conversation  in 
rather  a  flippant  strain  :  "  Isn't  it  rather  curious  you 
knew  all  this  ?  My  Lady  Annerley  was  supposed  to  be 
devoted  to  the  ball-room  not  the  counting-house." 

He  stops  here,  for  she  turns  to  him  and  he  sees  her 
face. 

"  My  father  told  me  a  great  deal  about  his  past  life 
when  on  his  death-bed,"  mutters  Lady  Annerley,  in  a 
broken  and  humble  tone  ;  then  all  the  humility  leaves 
her  voice  and  her  manner,  she  strides  to  the  would-be 
cynic  and  hisses  in  his  ear  :  "  Don't  steal  the  secrets 
from  the  dead — you  hear  me  !  Let  the  dead  alone  !  " 

"  Curse  it,  madam  !  You  are  pinching  my  arm  !  "  yells 
the  doctor,  for  she  has  emphasized  her  last  words  by  a 
very  savage  grip  on  the  old  man's  biceps  ;  but  Lady  An 
nerley,  thinking  she  hears  a  noise  in  the  sick-room,  has 
flown  there,  and  Lampson  follows  her  nursing  his  pinch 
and  wrath  together. 

As  he  comes  in  she  is  gazing  at  the  invalid,  who  is 
asleep,  with  a  look  that  puts  a  new  idea  in  the  physician's 
head.  And  taking  her  on  one  side,  he  says  :  "  You're 
very  desperately  in  love  with  him  !  " 

Then  she  astounds  him  more  by  returning  quite  stead 
ily  :  "  The  idea  !  "  but  after  a  moment  hides  her  head  and 
begins  to  cry. 

"  Now  none  of  this  !  No  sentiment  in  the  sick-room  ! 
No  flirtation  !  No  marrying  nor  giving  in  marriage  till 
Adonis  is  well." 

"  Marriage  ! — I  ?  You  forget  yourself,  doctor ;  I  am 
only  a  widow  eighteen  months  !  "  The  beautiful  woman 
is  attempting  to  be  haughty. 


MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS.  97 

"  That's  the  usual  time  !  "  grins  Lampson.  "  At  twenty- 
five,  about  eighteen  months  is  the  fatal  period." 

But  she  suddenly  frightens  him,  for  she  towers  over 
him  with  flashing  eyes,  and  cries :  "  Enough !  No 
more  jokes  about  my  heart  !  "  Then  goes  away  with  a 
blaze  upon  her  face  downstairs,  where  she  says  in  a 
broken  voice  :  "  Martin,  I'm  sick.  Get  me  to  bed  !  " 
Which  the  maid  does  tremblingly,  for  she  has  an  idea 
that  all  fevers  are  infectious,  and  thinks:  "If  she 
catches  it,  I'm  a  goner." 

As  for  Lampson,  he  looks  after  the  beautiful  widow, 
and  this  cynic  mutters  :  "  Poor  devil !  " 

Family  doctors  as  well  as  family  lawyers  know  the 
skeleton  in  the  closet,  and  old  Lampson  is  running  Lady 
Annerley's  case  over  in  his  mind.  At  seventeen  her 
father  had  practically  forced  her  to  marry  old  Lord  An- 
nerley.  For  Sir  Jonas  Stevens  had  made  his  money  as  a 
banker,  and  though  knighted,  worshiped  the  aristocracy 
like  a  city  alderman,  i.  e.,  with  his  whole  soul.  Viscount 
Annerley  was  a  relic  of  the  Regency  ;  had  been  a  young 
rout  in  the  days  of  Beau  Brummel,  and  even  after  his 
marriage  aspired  to  be  an  old  roue.  He  hated  his  bride 
because  she  despised  him,  which  she  did  from  the  very 
depths  of  her  heart.  Sir  Jonas  Stevens,  her  father,  was 
a  man  soured  by  something,  no  one  knew  what,  and  de 
voted  only  to  accumulating  great  wealth.  And  from 
seventeen  to  twenty -three  the  Viscountess  Annerley  lived 
unloved  by  any  man  whose  love  she  could  return  without 
dishonor.  Since  then  she  has  buried  her  husband  and 
her  father,  and  with  the  old  title  of  one  and  the  grand 
fortune  of  the  other  at  twenty-five  is  one  of  the  greatest 
matches  in  all  England. 

With  a  husband  who  outraged  her  pride  and  a  father 
who  cared  not  enough  for  her  to  shield  her  from  the 
attentions  of  the  thoughtless  or  the  vicious,  no  tinge  or 
speck  of  the  slightest  scandal  has  ever  rested  upon 
Sarah  Annerley's  fame  as  a  woman.  Fitted  to  inspire  as 
well  as  entertain  the  tender  passion,  she  has  to  this  time 
gone  through  life  unloving. 

It  is  probably  some  thought  like  the  last  which  is  in 

the  doctor's  mind,  as   after  looking  searchingly   at  his 

patient,  and  noting  the  great  beauty  of  the  young  man's 

features,  fair  curly  hair,  and  the  noble  proportions  of  his 

7 


08  MR.   POTTER  OF   TEXAS. 

six  feet  of  bone,  muscle,  and  sinew,  old  Lampson  says : 
"  George !  in  a  month  this  chap  '11  be  an  Adonis ;  then 
she'll  have  her  innings  !  Rather  think  young  Errol 
has  wounded  something  else  besides  kangaroos  and 
Egyptians." 

So  as  time  runs  on  the  Australian's  convalesence  be 
comes  more  pronounced,  he  gradually  regaining  his  recol 
lection.  For  he  recognizes  Lady  Annerley  perfectly, 
though  he  never  clearly  remembers  the  night  before  he 
was  stricken  down,  and  has,  to  her  great  joy,  forgotten 
entirely  the  packet  she  gave  him. 

Lady  Annerley  has  searched  Errol's  clothes  and  all  his 
belongings — everything  that  came  with  them  from  Egypt 
— and  it  is  not  among  them.  Undoubtedly  destroyed  by 
some  accident,  it  can  never  come  from  Alexandria  to  dis 
close  a  secret  that,  since  she  loves  him,  must  now  be 
dead. 

Learning  that  his  father  has  heard  of  his  wound,  the 
young  man  often  wonders  why  his  governor  has  not 
been  able  to  run  over  to  see  him.  At  these  times  such 
a  peculiar  expression  comes  over  his  nurse's  face  that 
Lampson  cogitates  as  he  looks  at  her :  "  What's  the 
matter  with  my  lady  ?  Hang  me  if  she  ain't  ashamed  of 
herself !  "  for  he  has  known  Sarah  Annerley  since  she  was 
a  baby. 

To  make  up  for  his  father's  absence  they  give  the  pa 
tient  a  pile  of  telegrams  and  letters  from  the  antipodes 
over  which  Errol  gloats,  saying  :  "  As  soon  as  I  am 
strong  enough  I'll  run  over  and  see  the  old  boy.  He's 
the  finest  gentleman,  the  truest  father,  and  best  friend  in 
the  world.  God  bless  him !  " 

These  eulogies  upon  his  father  have  a  fearful  effect 
upon  Lady  Annerley.  After  one  of  them  she  spends  half 
the  night  pacing  her  room,  fighting  with  her  conscience, 
crying  :  "  If  I  told  Charley  he'd  hate  me!  "  Then  takes  to 
cursing  her  father  in  a  manner  that  would  shock  good 
Christians  if  they  heard  her. 

The  strain  on  her  mind  tells  upon  her  body ;  and  one 
morning  after  they  have  arranged  a  c-.uch  where  the 
ripple  of  the  water  is  heard,  and  the  patient  can  see  the 
Grand  Canal,  and  Errol  has  strolled  over  to  it  and  is 
dividing  his  time  by  nibbling  at  grapes,  nibbling  at  a  book, 
and  interjecting  an  occasional  glance  at  the  beautiful 


MR.  POTTfeR  OF  TEXAS  99 

panorama  before  him,  Dr.  Lampson  takes  Lady  Annerley 
downstairs,  and  says  :  " I've  noticed  you  needed  excite 
ment,  and  provided  it." 

"  Indeed,  doctor,  what  have  you  prescribed  ?  " 
"Society!     Girls!     Your  two    great    friends,    Miss 
Ethel  Lincoln  and  Miss  Ida  Potter." 
t    "  One  the  pet  of  the  last  London  season  and  the  other 
its  goddess,  the  reigning  American  beauty.    You've  done 
very  well,  doctor,"  says  Lady  Annerley. 

"  Humph  !  "  returns  Lampson,  proudly,  "  I  always  pre 
scribe  the  finest  medicines.  The  two  were  in  Florence 
with  some  chaperon  or  other  and  Miss  Lincoln's  brother. 
I  telegraphed  them.  They  have  accepted,  deserted  their 
chaperon  for  your  care,  and  '11  be  here  "—looking  at  his 
watch—"  perhaps  in  five  minutes  !  " 

"Then  I  must  send  my  gondola  for  them." 
"  It  has  gone  already,  I  looked  out  for  that !— By 
George  !  what's  that  ?  "  for  a  ripple  of  laughter  comes  in 
the  hall  doors  opening  on  the  Grand  Canal,  and  Lady 
Annerley,  crying,  "The  girls  have  come!"  runs  down 
the  steps  to  the  water's  edge  to  see  the  prettiest  picture 
in  the  world. 

If  one  exclamation  more  than  another  excites  the 
masculine  mind,  it  is, "  The  girls  have  come  ! "  The  invalid 
upstairs  hears  it,  pops  his  head  out  of  the  window  and 
sees  the  same  picture.  A  street  of  living  water,  bounded 
by  old  palazzos,  roofed  by  blue  sky,  gilded  and  made 
bright  by  a  September  Venetian  sun,  modernized  by  puf. 
fing  steamboats,  and  made  romantic  by  dashing  gondolas 
One  of  these  lies  alongside  the  steps  immediately  below 
him.  Standing  upon  these  steps  is  an  Englishman  of 
about  thirty  and  a  young  lady,  who  has  just  gathered  her 
skirts  away  from  a  splash  or  two  of  water  churned  upon 
the  stones  by  the  rocking  boat.  This  position  gives  to 
the  and  beautiful  figure  the  pose  of  a  Venus  The 
Australian  has  hardly  time  to  appreciate  her  before  a 
tiny  scream  or  two  comes  to  his  ear.  Looking  into  the 
gondola  he  sees  a  fairy  in  an  agony  of  indecision,  one 
tiny  foot  upon  the  gunwale  of  the  boat,  the  other  stretched 
put  faltermgly  toward  the  steps,  while  an  imploring  voice 
is  crying :  «  Arthur,  please,  help  me  J  I  shall  fall  in,  and 
I  can  t  swim  ! 
The  gentleman  addressed,  who  has  been  devoting  «1J 


100  MR.   POTTER  OF   TEXAS. 

his  attention  to  the  other  young  lady,  turns  upon  her  and 
replies  sarcastically  :  "  Ethel,  stop  showing  off  !  There's 
no  man  looking." 

"  Oh,  what  an  insinuation  !  A  man  to  see  my  awk 
wardness  !  A  man — I  should  hope  not — O-oh  !  "  This 
last  exclamation,  which  is  accompanied  by  a  tremendous 
blush,  is  caused  partly  by  the  fairy's  chancing  to  gaze  up- 
ward  and  see  Errol's  admiring  glance,  and  partly  by 
her  brother  giving  her  a  muscular  yank,  and  jumping  her 
upon  the  steps.  She  runs  up  these  and  disappears  in  the 
door  to  which  the  gentleman  assists  the  other  lady  with 
punctilious  deference  and  courtesy.  Both  the  girls  are 
dressed  in  most  exquisite  summer  toilets  and  look  like 
dreams — but  the  fairy — ah  !  Errol  gives  a  gasp  of  rap 
ture. 

"  Any  one  could  tell  that  brute  was  her  brother,  the 
way  he  pulled  her  out  of  the  boat.  Ethel — nice  name  ! 
When  I  am  well,  I  feel  as  if  I  were  just  the  man  to  assist 
Ethel  out  of  gondolas !  "  and  the  Australian  stretches 
his  limbs  that  have  begun  to  throb  with  health  again,  and 
says :  "  Jove,  I  feel  better  already!  " 

In  the  house,  after  the  usual  greetings,  Miss  Potter 
says,  looking  about  and  shaking  her  graceful  plumage, 
for  this  young  lady  is  rich  enough  and  fortunate  enough 
to  be  plumed  by  Worth,  who  feathers  such  birds  very 
gorgeously,  "  Where  is  the  hero  ? " 

"  Oh,  I've  seen  him  !  "  cries  Ethel.  "  He's  blonde  and 
tawny  and  blue-eyed  like  a  lion  !  He  looked  at  me  as 
you  pulled  me  from  the  boat,  Arthur  ! " 

"Oh,  you've  got  on  that  subject  again,  have  you, 
Ethel?"  says  the  brother,  snubbing  the  sister  a  little. 
For  the  two  girls  have  heard  about  Errol  in  a  long  letter 
Lieutenant  Potter  has  written  his  sister  from  Alexandria, 
and  have  been  discussing  the  Australian's  deeds  of  valor 
with  an  emphasis  and  enthusiasm  that  has  made  Arthur 
Lincoln  by  no  means  happy.  He  has  been  very  much 
in  love  with  Ida  Potter  for  a  long  time,  and  conse 
quently  is  jealous  of  everybody  masculine,  especially 
heroes. 

"Well,  he's  very  handsome,  anyway.  Snubbing  me 
won't  make  him  ugly,"  murmurs  Miss  Ethel. 

*  I'll  show  him  to  you  soon,  my  dear,"  says  Lady  An- 
nerley,  proud  of  her  champion  ;  for  she  is  very  fond  of 


M&.   POTTER  OF  TEXA3-  1*1, 

this  bright-eyed,  bright-mannered  English  girl,  and  hai 

no  idea  how  she  will  hate  her  afterward. 

"  When  will  he  be  put  on  exhibition  ?  "  asks  Miss  Pot 
ter  with  a  little  laugh. 

"  Between  2  and  4  p.  M.  Special  tickets,  and  mind 
me,  girls,  no  flirting  with  my  patient,"  says  Lampson 
grimly. 

"  I  never  flirt  !  "  comes  from  both  the  young  ladies  at 
once  ;  but  Ethel  laughs  over  it  and  Miss  Potter  says  it 
very  seriously,  and  then  goes  on  quietly  :  "  I  don't  be 
lieve  in  affecting  love  when  I  do  not  feel  it — and  feel  it 
strongly." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  ?  "  asks  Arthur  under  his  voice. 

"  I'm  in  the  habit  of  saying  what  I  mean  !  "  returns 
Ida  rising  and  going  to  Lady  Annerley.  But  from  this 
place  of  safety  she  gives  the  young  man  a  veiled  glance 
that  sets  him  trembling,  for  during  the  last  few  weeks 
something  in  this  catch-of-the-season's  manner  has  set 
this  young  English  barrister  hoping  for  what  rich  dukes 
had  hoped  for  in  vain  ;  for  Miss  Potter  had  been  asked 
in  marriage  for  her  beauty  rather  than  for  her  wealth, 
though  her  father's  flocks  and  herds  are  said  to  be  large 
as  those  of  the  patriarchs  of  old. 

In  a  little  time  Lady  Annerley  takes  them  all  upstairs 
to  see  Mr.  Errol,  and  they  find  that  young  gentleman  has 
somehow  arrayed  himself  as  if  expecting  lady  visitors. 

After  a  gasp  or  two  at  Miss  Potter's  loveliness,  for  no 
man  could  look  at  it  unmoved,  Errol  turns  to  the  fairy, 
who  gives  him  an  elfin  gesture  and  murmurs  :  "  Excuse 
my  curiosity,  my  first  hero  !  " 

To  this  the  young  man  answers  :  "  I'm  hardly  strong 
enough  to  get  up  and  make  a  bow  to  you,  but — in  Aus 
tralia  we  sometimes  shake  hands." 

"  With  pleasure,"  says  Miss  Ethel,  and  she  gives  hers 
to  him,  together  with  a  very  kindly  glance  from  her  blue 
eyes,  for  who  can  help  pitying  this  great,  handsome  fel 
low  as  he  lies  upon  the  sofa  so  pale,  interesting,  and  ro 
mantically  wounded  ? 

Holding  this  little  right  hand,  Errol  looks  at  the  young 
lady's  left,  sees  no  engagement  ring  upon  it,  and  gives  a 
sigh  of  relief.  Then  with  a  slight  pressure  would  im 
prison  the  other  longer  ;  but  old  Lampson,  who  takes 
wicked  pleasure  in  making  girls  blush,  cries  out :  " 


102  MS..    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 

let  go  that  young  man's  hand  !  Feeling  pulses  is  my 
business,  not  yours  !  " 

At  which  the  young  lady  gives  a  pathetic  little  scream, 
draws  away  her  hand,  suddenly  crosses  to  the  other  side 
of  the  room  ;  but  shortly  after  seems  to  wander  back  to 
the  invalid's  couch,  and  the  two  become  very  much  en 
grossed  in  one  another. 

As  for  Arthur  he  gives  a  sigh  of  relief,  for  Miss  Potter 
appears  only  slightly  impressed  with  Mr.  Errol,  and  goes 
out  onto  the  balcony,  where  the  setting  sun  comes  in  and 
tints  this  princess  from  the  West  whom  nature  has 
crowned  with  a  beauty  that  is  entirely  indescribable  but 
entirely  American.  For  Miss  Potter  still  keeps  her  Bor 
der-State  accent  and  her  Border-State  manners.  These 
have  descended  to  her  from  her  mother,  who  was  of  the 
blue-grass  region  of  Kentucky,  so  famed  for  its  lovely 
women. 

Her  Southern  lisp  has  been  called  soft  as  the  song  of 
Italian  opera  ;  her  Border-State  manners  are  said  to  be 
perfect  as  those  of  the  ancient  regime.  She  has  such  a 
pride  in  herself  she  makes  everybody  that  bows  to  her 
do  homage  to  the  country  which  she  represents  and 
honors.  In  fact,  she  is,  as  Colonel  Cottontree,  the  cele 
brated  Texas  diplomatist  and  statesman,  who  knows 
everybody  of  prominence  on  both  sides  of  the  ocean  and 
who  has  given  the  daughter  of  his  old  friend  her  first 
launch  into  European  society,  says  :  "  So  cursed  high, 
mighty,  and  aristocratic  that  the  world  bows  down  to 
her  as  the  most  fetching  woman  upon  earth  ; "  this 
American  beauty,  who  in  the  salons  of  London  and  Paris 
is  proud  that  she  is  American. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

HOME    AGAIN  ! 

A  FEW  days  after  this,  Doctor  Lampson  having  pro 
nounced  the  patient  safe,  and  bolted  to  his  English  pa 
tients,  leaving  as  the  only  souvenir  of  his  visit  a  large  hole 
in  Lady  Annerley's  bank  account,  they  bring  Errol  down 
stairs,  or  rather  he  comes  unassisted,  for  this  great  hulk 
ing  fellow  is  beginning  to  be  himself  once  more.  The 


MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  103 

roses  are  coming  into  his  cheeks  and  the  power  into  his 
limbs,  and  his  blue  eyes  sparkte  with  new-born  health  and 
happiness  when  they  look  on  pretty  Miss  Ethel,  who  wel 
comes  him  with  redder  roses  and  brighter  eyes  than 
even  she  has  ever  displayed  for  his  benefit  before. 

In  fact,  every  one  looks  bright  and  happy  this  day, 
for  Lady  Annerley  has  made  a  little  fete  for  the  occasion, 
and  Miss  Potter  and  herself  are  in  very  fine  feathers; 
though  to  the  Australian  the  little  English  girl  in  her 
simple  muslin  frock,  as  he  describes  it  to  himself  (which 
cost  a  thousand  francs  in  Paris),  is  the  most  charming  of 
the  lot.  So  these  two  young  people  go  to  breaking  rny 
lady's  heart  by  falling  in  love  with  each  other. 

Like  most  tragedies  the  thing  comes  about  quite  grad 
ually,  for  it  is  difficult  for  Lady  Annerley  to  believe  that 
she  is  defeated  by  this  ingenue  of  one  season,  who  has 
only  the  fascination  of  her  own  dear  little  heart  and  fresh, 
youthful  beauty  with  which  to  fight  her  battle.  For, 
though  her  father,  Percy  Lincoln,  is  one  of  the  great 
jurists  of  England  and  some  day  will  probably  be  made 
for  his  services  upon  the  bench  a  lord,  the  family,  while 
closely  connected  with  the  best  blood  in  Britain,  are  not 
very  rich  for  the  social  station  they  occupy,  and  Miss 
Ethel's  dower  must  be  quite  a  modest  one  compared  with 
Lady  Annerley's  grand  estates  and  princely  income. 

So  Sarah  Annerley  takes  to  watching  these  young 
people  who  are  sometimes,  she  hopes,  only  playing  pas 
sion,  and  at  others  so  savage  with  each  other  that  they 
make  her  joyous  ;  for  my  lady  forgets  that  this  is  a  first- 
love  business,  and  therefore  is  at  times  a  matter  of  jeal 
ousies,  sighs,  pouts,  frowns,  and  even  tears,  as  well  as 
smiles,  confidences,  and  subtle  caresses.  Errol,  though 
nearly  thirty  years  of  age,  is  in  the  one  grand  passion  of 
his  life,  and  Ethel  gives  this  man  all  the  first  pure  love  of 
a  young  girl  whose  cheeks  have  never  been  mauled  by  the 
advances  of  kissing  school-boys,  and  whose  heart  has 
never  been  sullied,  wounded,  nor  made  languid  by  de 
ceased  flirtations  nor  amateur  theatrical  passions.  Her 
father,  Judge  Lincoln,  is  devoted  to  his  only  daughter, 
and  has  kept  her  up  to  this  time,  as  he  does  his  juries, 
separate  and  apart  from  all  outside  contaminations  and 
temptations. 

This  wretched  business  of  Lady  Annerley's  is  brought 


104  MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 

to  a  crisis  by  an  old  adorer  of  hers,  whose  hand  she  has 
refused  so  many  times  she  forgets  the  exact  number.  He 
is  a  young  American  who,  in  ample  contrast  to  Miss 
Potter,  is  ashamed  of  his  country — a  creature  of  fero 
cious  expression  and  feeble  mind,  who  has  red,  languid, 
watery  eyes. 

These,  together  with  a  little  bristly  mustache,  give  to 
his  countenance  the  savage  look  of  a  monkey  in  a  rage, 
and  when  he  parts  his  hair  in  the  middle  he  is  considered 
quite  a  killing  fellow  by  young  girls  at  germans  and  other 
adolescent  amusements.  No  one  would  think  him  con 
ceited,  for  the  only  virtue  he  publicly  claims  for  himself 
is,  "  My  sister  married  a  lord  !  "  However,  he  says  this 
so  often  the  monotony  of  it  becomes  terrible. 

An  ancestor  of  his  fought  at  Bunker  Hill,  and  another 
was  on  the  staff  of  General  Washington  ;  but  their  de 
scendant  has  put  on  the  chains  they  shed  their  blood  to 
throw  off,  and  bows  down  to  and  worships  everything  that 
is  English,  wishing  with  all  his  brave  little  spirit  that  he 
could  use  a  single  eye-glass  with  the  languid  air  of  a 
Guard's-Club  swell,  and  his  walk  had  the  real  Piccadilly 
stride  about  it. 

This  little  wretch,  who  is  a  social  sleuth-hound  in  his 
way,  has  somehow  scented  the  party  out,  and  drops  in 
upon  them  full  of  London  news,  Paris  gossip,  and  rumors 
from  the  Orient. 

"  By  George  !  "  he  lisps,  "  Lady  Annerley,  we've  all 
been  talking  about  you.  The  Due  de  Genlis  Peragord 
spoke  to  me  just  outside  the  Jockey  Club  "  (he  has  never 
been  on  the  inside  in  his  life).  "  Peragord  said :  'Dubardu, 
how  I  envy  that  ah — ah — antipodes  fellah,  you  know!' 
and  I  agree  with  him.  How  I  wish  I  had  been  in  ah — 
Egypt,  you  know,  to  have  saved  you  from  the  awh — 
awh — crocodiles  !  " 

Stifling  a  smile,  Miss  Ethel  suggests  that  it  was  not 
crocodiles  that  attacked  Lady  Annerley. 

"  Noa !  " 

"  It  was  an  Eastern  mob  !  " 

11  Oh,  ah,  yes,  something  wild  and  terrible  !  Just  the 
same  I  should  have  defended  her  ;  something  wild  and 
terrific,  like  our  cowboys.  Oh,  by  Jove !  now  I  beg  your 
pardon,  Miss  Potter,«your  father  is  a  cowboy  or  something 
of  that  sort,  I  believe."  For  Ida  has  risen  and  is  going 


MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS.  I«5 

out  on  the  balcony,  where  she  is  shortly  followed  by 
Arthur. 

A  moment  later  there  comes  to  them  from  the  room: 
"  By  Jove  !  I  never  eat  a  beefsteak,  but  I  think  of  Miss 
Potter's  papa ! " 

This  is  followed  by  a  ripple  of  laughter  from  the 
house,  for  the  creature  has  the  humorous  methods  of  a 
monkey,  and  Errol  and  Ethel  would  laugh  at  nearly  any 
thing  they  are  so  happy,  and  Lady  Annerley  would  laugh 
at  anything  because  she  is  hysterically  miserable,  the  man 
ner  of  the  Australian  having  been  more  marked  than  ever 
toward  the  English  girl  this  morning. 

"  Shall  I  go  in  and  stop  him  ? "  mutters  Arthur  to  Ida 
savagely. 

"  Not  at  all,  Mr.  Lincoln.  I  find  Mr.  Van  Cott  amus 
ing  myself ! "  and  to  her  adorer's  astonishment  Miss 
Potter  laughs  also,  though  in  a  peculiar  and  sarcastic  way 
as  if  making  fun  of  herself. 

But  here  another  remark  of  the  facetious  Van  Cott, 
who  has  no  idea  his  bons  mots  andjeux  d'esprits  are  flying 
out  of  the  window,  comes  to  them  and  produces  a  terrible 
effect  on  both,  as  they  hear  him  lisp :  "  Miss  Ethel. 
Arthur  very  far  gone  ? " 

"  Gone  !     What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Why,  on  La  Cattle  Queen,  of  course.  Ah,  that  gal 
knows  what  she  is  doing.  She  wants  to  catch  the  Honor 
able  Arthur.  She's  playing  her  cards  to  become  an  Eng 
lish  peeress  ! " 

"  Honorable  Arthur  ?    Who  is  he  ?  " 

"  Why,  don't  you  know  ?  Good  gracious !  don't  you 
know?"  he  shrieks  excitedly.  "You're  the  Honorable 
Ethel  and  he's  the  Honorable  Arthur.  Your  governor's 
been  retired  and  made  a  peer  of  the  realm.  I've  got 
the  London  Times  in  my  pocket.  So  glad  to  have  giver 
you  the  good  news  !  Awfully  jolly  !  congratulations  !— > 
Take  the  paper  !  " 

Which  Ethel  does,  and  running  out  on  to  the  balcony 
cries  :  "  Arthur,  see,  papa's  been  made  Baron  Lincoln  !  " 
Then  pauses  astonished,  for  Miss  Potter  is  at  the  far  end 
of  the  veranda,  and  her  little  foot  beating  an  impatient 
tattoo  as  she  appears  to  be  intensely  interested  in  the 
dome  of  the  San  Marco.  Her  face  is  red  and  turned  as 
much  as  possible  from  Arthur  Lincoln's. 


106         ^  MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXA& 

That  young  man  has  a  horrible  scowl  upon  his  counte 
nance,  for  he  knows  how  these  remarks  have  wounded 
Miss  Potter's  pride  and  so  far  injured  his  chances.  He 
says  seriously:  "  Ethel,  I'm  afraid  this  promotion  will  be 
an  expensive  one  for  all  of  us.  Father's  salary  as  a 
judge  was  greater  than  his  pension  will  be  as  a  peer." 

This  social  elevation  of  the  Lincolns  brings  about  in 
the  course  of  the  day  several  climaxes  of  passion  that, 
in  the  ordinary  run  of  events,  might  have  not  occurred 
for  some  time.  Miss  Ethel  turns  and  goes  to  Errol  and 
finds  that  gentleman  has  become  quite  distant  in  his  de 
meanor.  For  the  poor  fellow  has  always  known  that 
Miss  Lincoln  has  been  greatly  above  him  in  the  social 
scale,  and  now  is  thinking  as  the  daughter  of  a  peer  of 
the  English  realm  she  is  separated  and  set  apart  from 
him  by  a  class  distinction  that  one  unacquainted  with 
British  society  can  hardly  understand.  Errol's  father 
is  simply  a  colonial  merchant  and  sheep-owner,  al 
beit  a  very  rich  one,  and  his  son  has  seen  enough  of 
English  life  to  know  that  his  suit  will  probably  be  con 
sidered  presumptuous  by  the  young  lady's  father  ;  conse 
quently  a  proper  pride  comes  to  him  and  makes  him 
haughty  to  Miss  Ethel  herself. 

Seeing  her  hero  upon  his  dignity,  his  sweetheart,  who 
has  a  very  high  spirit  of  her  own,  becomes  punctilious 
also,  and  then  sarcastic,  asking  him  whether  a  longing  for 
native  "damper"  and  kangaroo  mutton  is  making  him  so 
glum,  and  if  Australian  sheep-herders  are  not  as  wild, 
savage,  and  uncouth  as  American  cowboys  ? 

These  remarks  make  Errol  very  down-hearted,  though 
they  amuse  Mr.  Van  Cott  greatly,  and  that  young  gen 
tleman  confides  in  Lady  Annerley  as  follows  : 

"  Jove,  this  is  lovely  !  Now  she's  the  daughter  of  a 
peer,  blowed  if  Miss  Ethel  ain't  going  to  throw  the  Aus 
tralian  over." 

To  which  my  lady  replies  only  with  a  sad  smile,  for 
she  is  afraid  they  are  both  too  much  interested  for  any 
such  good  fortune  as  this  to  happen. 

"  Any  way,"  Mr.  Van  Cott  goes  on,  "  Miss  Lincoln 
needn't  think  so  beastly  much  of  her  father's  new  crea 
tion.  By  Jove  !  my  brother-in-law,  the  Earl  of  Sands- 
down,  says  that  since  the  late  additions  to  the  peerage 
it's  becoming  deuced  vulgar  to  be  a  lord.  We,  of  the 


MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 


old  families,  your  ladyship  and—  a-hem  !—  myself,  will 
appreciate  the  delicious  wit  of  my  brother-in-law,  the 
Earl  of  Sandsdown." 

"  Quite  !  "  says  Lady  Annerley  very  savagely.  "  My 
father  was  a  city  banker  and  bill-broker  ;  and  yours,  1 
believe,  was  an  American,  Mr.  Van  Cott,  who  made  army 
contracts  !  "  and  leaves  him  speechless,  but  writhing  with 
rage. 

Miss  Potter  is  in  a  rage  also,  for  she  has  caught  Ethel's 
remark  about  cowboys,  and  being  wounded  and  feminine, 
turns  about  and  stings  her  lover,  by  asking  Van  Cott 
rather  pointedly  :  "  How  is  the  market  for  American 
heiresses  ?  What  is  the  last  quotation  ?  You  should 
surely  know  :  your  sister  married  a  lord." 

These  remarks  of  the  young  ladies  are  by  no  means 
polite,  and  perhaps  ill-natured  and  ill-bred  :  but  Fifth 
Avenue,  when  it  gets  going,  can  do  the  rough-and-tum 
ble  act  as  well  as  the  Bowery,  though  it  does  so  in  a  dif 
ferent  way.  So  they  go  on  and  make  such  a  good,  cut 
ting,  savage,  sarcastic,  witty  day  of  it,  that  after  dinner 
Errol  and  Arthur  feel  very  glum,  Ethel  spiteful,  Miss 
Potter  sarcastic,  and  Lady  Annerley  up  to  anything  the 
devil  will  put  into  her  head,  which  he  is  quite  sure  to  do 
as  soon  as  he  can  think  of  something  delicate  enough, 
subtle  enough,  and  cruel  enough  to  be  worthy  of  a  high 
born  aristocratic  sinner  like  my  lady. 

Under  these  circumstances  it  is  not  at  all  astonishing 
that  Miss  Potter  thinks  Lady  Annerley's  dinner  bad, 
though  the  menu  is  excellent  and  the  cooking  in  the  best 
style  of  French  art.  She  strolls  out  on  to  the  balcony 
after  dessert  and  has  a  luxurious  cry.  She  has  made  the 
man  she  loves  unhappy,  and  is  therefore  unhappy  her 
self. 

She  is  not  allowed  to  enjoy  this  solo  of  misery  long 
before  a  blazing  cigar  is  poked  through  the  open  Venetian 
window  ;  this  is  followed  a  second  afterward  by  Arthur 
Lincoln,  who  stands  beside  the  girl  and  enjoys  her 
beauty  in  silence,  as  Ida  is  busy  smuggling  away  a  last 
sneaking  tear  and  says  nothing. 

After  a  whiff  or  two  of  his  Havana,  for  the  young  man 
knows  Miss  Potter  well  enough  to  be  aware  that  she 
has  no  objection  to  cigar  smoke,  he  says  rather  sadly  : 
*  What  a  happy  family  we  all  were  before  that  cad  Van 


I08  MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS. 

Cott  intruded  himself  among  us,  bringing  with  him  the 
cares,  jealousies,  and  ambitions  of  the  outside  world!  " 

"  Yes^we — we  were  very  happy  here!  "  replies  Ida,  with 
a  little  sigh,  looking  at  her  shadow  the  moonlight  makes 
on  the  water  of  the  Grand  Canal ;  and  then  more 
brightly :  "  So  Venice  is  your  Garden  of  Eden — little 
Van  Cott  your  serpent,"  and  with  a  little  laugh,  for  she 
sees  he  has  forgiven  her  all  of  her  unkind  words,  and  is 
regaining  her  spirits,  "  you  and  I  are  the  Adam  and  Eve 
—oh,  no  !  I — I  don't  mean  that !  " 

She  turns  away  with  a  blush  on  her  face,  and  gazes  at 
the  water  and  passing  gondolas  and  silent  palaces  ;  but 
though  she  says  no  more,  and  dares  not  look  over  her 
shoulder,  the  blush  deepens  and  deepens  and  becomes 
more  red  and  bright  and  vivid,  for  Arthur  is  unable  to 
withstand  the  beauty  of  Ida  Potter,  gilded  by  Venetian 
moonlight,  and  his  arm  is  stealing  round  her  waist — that 
waist  that  no  lover's  arm  has  clasped  before.  However, 
it  doesn't  do  his  chances  any  harm,  for  though  her  eyes 
flash  and  she  is  about  to  repulse  him,  before  she  can  do 
so  love  conquers;  pride,  she  trembles  under  his  em 
brace,  and  her  beautiful  head  droops  upon  his  shoulder. 

He  murmurs  :  "  You  love  me  !  "  and  is  about  to  kiss  her, 
but  she  breaks  from  him,  and  cries :  "  Not  yet !  The 
man  who  kisses  me  marries  me  !  " 

'  "  Can't  you  see  I  want  to  do  both  ? "  whispers  Arthur, 
and  would  take  her  in  his  arms  again,  but  she  mutters 
hoarsely  :  "  You  shall  do  neither—^/  /  See  my  father !  " 

"  Why  not  now?  " 

"  Never !  Until  you  see  my  father !  He  will  be  in 
England  within  the  month.  See  my  father  /" 

This  peculiar  iteration,  "  See  my  father !  "  makes  the 
young  man  pause.  He  says,  slowly  :  "  I  think  I  under 
stand  you,  Ida.  You  fear  your  father  will  not  think  me 
worthy  of  you.  I  agree  with  him.  I  know  you've  re 
fused  much  greater  men  than  me — dukes  and  counts  and 
all  that,  but  you  didn't  love  them,  dearest  ?  " 

«  No— o  !  " 

"  And  none  of  them  loved  you  more  than  I !  " 

"  I  believe  you,  Arthur  ! "  mutters  the  girl,  and  his 
blood  throbs  to  the  sound,  for  it  is  the  first  time  that  she 
has  used  his  Christian  name. 

"  I  have   no   doubt   that  a   man  of  such  aristocratic 


MR.   POTTER  OF  TEXAS.  1O$ 

tastes,  habits,  and  associations,  as  your  father  must  be, 
even  though  he  has  no  title,  may  expect  a  much  grander 
name  than  ours  for  his  daughter  !  "  he  goes  on  gloomily. 

She  doesn't  answer  this,  but  in  the  moonlight  he  can 
see  her  trembling,  shaking,  and  quivering  with  some  un 
controllable  emotion. 

But  now,  looking  at  the  lovely  head  that  so  lately 
nestled  upon  his  shoulder,  that  shell-like  ear  in  which  a 
second  ago  he  whispered,  those  coral  lips  so  nearly 
kissed,  this  grand  beauty  that  is  almost  in  his  hand,  his 
ardor  becomes  too  great  to  restrain  ;  he  whispers  :  "  Do 
you  love  me  ? " 

There  is  a  sigh  in  the  breeze  ;  it  seems  to  say:  "  Y-e-s  ! ' 

"  You  love  me  !  I  have  no  fear  !  You  love  me  !  "  he 
cries,  and  would  seize  her  in  his  arms,  but  she  breaks 
from  him  and  fights  him  away,  and  cries,  in  a  wild, 
frightened,  desperate  tone  :  "  See  my  father  !  Don't  dare 
speak  of  this  till  you  see  my  father  /"  and  flies  from  him. 

"  Hang  it  !  I've  no  doubt  old  Potter  is  a  dyed-in-the- 
bone  aristocrat ! "  mutters  Arthur,  "  but  I  rather  think  the 
Lincolns  have  a  fairly  good  family  tree."  Then  he  says, 
suddenly  :  "  Confound  it  !  "  for  his  cigar  has  been  for 
gotten  in  his  passionate  excitement  and  has  gone  out. 

Relighting  this,  he  sits  down,  puffs  rings  of  cigar- 
smoke  round  the  moon,  and  thinks  of  the  paternal  Pot 
ter,  but  soon  forgets  all  about  him  in  contemplating  the 
daughter. 

"  I— I  nearly  kissed  her,"  he  mutters,  in  a  dazed, 
happy,  dreamy  way,  and  then,  with  sudden  enthusiasm  : 
"  By  Jove  !  she  loves  me  !  The  dearest,  sweetest,  most 
aristocratic  girl  in  the  whole  world  loves  me  !  " 

As  for  the  lady,  she  goes  away  and  mutters  to  herself 
savagely:  "An  aristocrat?  if  he  hadn't  called  me  that  I — 
I  might  have  let  him  kiss  me.  An  aristocrat  ?  I'm  tired 
of  the  word  !  " 

And  this  is  to  a  certain  extent  true.  The  girl's  bearing 
and  beauty  are  so  noble,  her  whole  attitude  in  life  so  con 
fident  and  independent,  and  withal  so  modest  and  un 
assuming,  that  European  society,  as  it  has  looked  upon 
her  thoroughbred  figure  and  blooded  feet  and  hands,  has 
said  :  "  An  aristocrat  of  perfect  lineage  and  descent,"  and 
has  desired  to  see  the  parents  of  such  a  child,  and  so  ex 
pressed  itself. 


HO  MR.   POTTER    OF   TEXAS. 

"  I  sigh  for  thy  father,  ma  chtre"  murmured  the  old 
Dowager  Comtesse  de  Saint  Germain.  "Monsieur  de 
Pottah  will  remind  me  in  his  courtly  manners  of  the  days 
of  my  youth,  when  we  danced  la  minuette. " 

"These  old  Virginia  families,  the  Fairfaxes,  Lees, 
Washingtons,  and  Potters,  took  some  of  our  best  blood 
out  of  the  old  world.  Egad  !  I'm  delighted  they've  sent  a 
little  of  it  back  in  you,  my  child,"  shouts  out  in  his  great, 
fox-hunting  voice  the  ancient  Duke  of  Sussexshire,  gazing 
at  the  beauty.  "  It's  perhaps  curious  to  regain  a  lost  art 
from  America,  but  I  expect  the  Chevalier  Potter  will 
bring  back  to  us  the  stately  bow  of  the  Prince  Regent  and 
the  punctilio  of  the  Maccaroni.  Ask  your  father  to  visit 
me  as  soon  as  he  arrives  in  England. " 

These  remarks  always  seemed  to  make  Miss  Potter 
blush  and  look  more  beautiful  and  aristocratic  than  ever. 

Turning  this  over  in  her  mind,  the  young  lady  comes 
into  the  grand  parlor  of  ihzpalazzo,  where  she  meets  Van 
Cott  and  Lady  Annerley,  who  says  with  lips  that  tremble 
in  spite  of  herself  :  "  Have  you  seen  Mr.  Errol  outside  ? 
I — I  am  afraid  that  the  night  air  will  be  too  damp  for  a 
convalescent !  " 

"  The  night  air  will  also  be  bad  for  Miss  Ethel.  They'll 
both  have  colds,"  chirps  Mr.  Van  Cott,  and  takes  his  leave. 
They  go  down  to  the  front  steps  to  see  him  into  his  gon 
dola,  for  the  young  man  lives  at  the  Hotel  Barbesi ;  and 
as  they  open  the  door  they  find  the  Australian  and  Miss 
Ethel  seated  close  together  in  a  barca  moored  to  the  stairs 
that  Errol  has  hired  for  the  purpose  from  some  passing 
boatmen. 

"  We've  been  trying  to  make  our  silhouettes  upon  the 
water  by  the  aid  of  the  moon,  only  the  mosquitoes 
wouldn't  let  us  keep  quiet.  It's  rather  amusing  !  "  cries 
the  young  lady  looking  slightly  guilty. 

"  Yes,  awfully  jolly,  and  quite  romantic  !  "  echoes  Errol, 
blushing  a  little,  for  his  conscience  sometimes  accuses  him 
of  neglecting  this  woman  who  has  nursed  him,  now  that 
her  aid  is  no  longer  a  necessity  to  him. 

"  So  I  see,"  mutters  Lady  Annerley.  "  Quite  roman 
tic  ! " 

"  Y-as,  romantic  as  anything  !  "  laughs  the  facetious 
Van  Cott.  "  To-morrow  night,  if  the  moon  is  fine,  I'll  come 
round  and  we'll  experiment  in  silhouettes,  you  and  I,  Lady 


MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  lit 

\ 

Sarah."  And  after  making  some  remarks  he  considers 
witty  about "  spoons,"  and  "  love's  young  dream,"  etc.,  etc., 
which  put  Lady  Annerley  on  the  rack,  and  make  Ethel 
blush,  and  Errol  want  to  punch  his  head,  the  creature  is 
rowed  off,  his  gondolier  singing  a  barcarol  as  he  drives  the 
boat  down  the  Grand  Canal  toward  the  beautiful  church 
of  Santa  Maria  della  Salute,  which  glistens  under  the 
moon  like  white  coral. 

A  moment  after  they  all  come  in  and  there  is  a  new 
and  happier  look  on  the  faces  of  Ethel  Lincoln  and  Char 
ley  Errol.  Chancing  to  gaze  at  Lady  Annerley,  Miss 
Potter  starts,  for  there  is  an  unknown  expression  that 
she  has  never  seen  before  on  my  lady's  face  ;  but  this  is 
not  at  all  curious,  as  Satan  has  just  bethought  himself 
and  is  putting  into  Sarah  Annerley's  head  his  newest, 
latest,  and  meanest  invention  in  wickedness  ;  and,  what  is 
more,  this  woman,  who  has  been  good,  noble,  and  gener 
ous  up  to  now,  has  made  up  her  mind  to  use  it — if  this 
little  English  girl  drives  her  to  it. 

So  the  days  run  along,  very  fast  and  joyous  for  Ethel 
and  Charley,  but  oh  !  how  slow  and  miserable  for  Lady 
Annerley,  as  she  fights  her  game  against  fate,  and  does 
it  badly. 

At  cards  many  play  well  for  fun,  few  play  well  for 
stakes.  So  it  is  in  the  great  struggles  of  life.  The  crack 
shot's  hand  often  trembles  when  his  existence  depends 
upon  its  steadiness,  and  the  veteran  of  the  duello  falls  be 
fore  the  pistol  of  a  tyro  ;  and  in  this  case  my  lady,  who 
has  won  many  battles  in  the  field  of  love,  is  so  anxious 
and  unnerved  the  cunning  seems  to  have  left  her  hand, 
and  the  novice  wins  the  contest. 

Miss  Ethel's  unstudied  fascinations  make  her  an  easy 
conqueror,  in  this  battle  of  the  heart,  over  the  "enchant 
ments  of  wit,  mind,  and  experience,  and  greater,  though 
more  mature,  beauty  of  Lady  Annerley.  Then  one  even 
ing  the  climax  comes— the  blow  falls. 

It  is  October.  The  day  has  been  perfect,  as  autumn 
days  in  Northern  Italy  generally  are.  The  quartette,  as 
they  have  got  to  call  themselves,  have,  under  the  pre 
tense  of  shopping,  taken  a  gondola  and  sailed  off  into 
these  streets  of  water,  bounded  by  these  gray  old  palaces 
from  which  modern  life  may  sweep  down  the  cobwebs, 
but  cannot  destroy  entirely  the  romance,  Lady  Anner- 


II J  MR.   POTTER  OF  TEXAS. 

ley,  not  having  spirits  enough  to  accompany  them,  is 
sitting  alone,  when  young  Van  Cott  drops  in  with  the 
news. 

"By  George!"  he  cries,  "I've  spotted  'em  at  last! 
Australia's  caught  the  little  gal !  It  was  so  awfully 
dark  in  the  shadow  of  the  houses  that,  as  my  gondola 
passed  another  gondola,  I  heard  two  people,  who  shall 
be  nameless,  kiss  each  other." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? "  gasps  Lady  Annerley. 

"  Oh,  no  scandal,  I  assure  you — all  proper — decorous — 
sedate  !  They're  engaged,  I  know  it !  " 

"  Who's  engaged  ?  "  This  is  a  snarl,  for  Lady  Anner 
ley 's  temper  has  snapped  its  chain. 

"  Errol  and  Ethel  Lincoln,  to  be  sure." 

"  A-ah  !  " 

But  Mr.  Van  Cott  runs  on,  too  much  engrossed  with 
his  story  to  notice  that  the  lady  he's  talking  to  is  nearly 
fainting. 

"  You  see,  to-day  I — ah — saw  the  convalescent  strid 
ing  along  the  Merceria  as  if  he  had  an  object  in  life  once 
more;  and  sauntered  after  him.  He  sneaked  into  a  jewel 
er's  shop — seemed  to  be  ashamed  of  what  he  was  doing. 
I  knew  the  symptoms.  Young  men  are  always  ashamed 
of  buying  the  first  engagement  ring — the  others  come 
easier.  *  First  engagement  ring,'  thought  I,  and  so  I 
wandered  in  after  him.  When  he  saw  me  the  chap  posi 
tively  blushed  and  tried  to  hide  it  quick,  but  I  had  my 
eye  on  it.  A  big  diamond  and  two  smaller  ones — cost 
^300.  Look  at  Miss  Ethel's  finger  to-night — you'll  see 
it — third  finger,  left  hand— engagement — I  love  you — 
fettered  for  life,  and  all  that,  you  know." 

"  Would  you  please  ring  for  a  glass  of  water  ? "  mutters 
Lady  Annerley.  "  You  are  sure  ?  " 

"  Water  ?  Oh,  certainly  I'm  sure  !  Charley  and  Ethel 
in  one  end  of  the  gondola,  Arthur  and  Ida  in  the  other. 
Gondoliers  in  the  middle  feed  to  look  up  in  the  air  for 
the  pigeons  of  Saint  Mark.  I  know  the  trick  !  "  and  he 
runs  on  in  a  sickening  kind  of  way,  and  Lady  Annerley, 
who  listens  dreamily  to  him,  rather  thinks  this  all  a  night 
mare. 

But  she  is  suddenly  awoke  out  of  it  with  a  start,  for 
Van  Cott  thinks  he  has  a  good  opening,  and  enthusi- 
Ustically  cries  :  "  Spoons  —  four  spoons  —  let's  be  six 


MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS.  IIJ 

spoons— spoons  all  around  !  "  and  getting  his  arm  about 
her  waist,  his  red  eyes  become  full  of  watery  amative- 
ness  as  he  gazes  upon  her  loveliness,  that  even  sorrow 
cannot  dim,  and  murmurs  :  "  Dearest  Lady  Sarah,  you 
and  I  also — three  engagements — three  happy  pair — three 
marriages — three- 
Here  he  stops  and  looks  frightened,  for  she  has  risen 
and  confronts  him  like  a  beautiful  tigress.  She  has  found 
something  upon  which  to  vent  her  pent-up  rage  and 
agony.  She  hisses  :  "  You  !  You  dare  !  You  !  " 

"  I— I — 'pon  my  life,  I  didn't  mean  it !  You  warn't 
half  so  angry  the  last  time  I  asked  you.  Don't,  don't 
carry  on  like  that !  You're  a  regular  bang-up  Lady 
Macbeth.  You — you  frighten  a  fellow  so.  HELP  !  " 
For  Sarah  Annerley  is  nearly  foaming  at  the  mouth  with 
rage. 

His  ludicrous  terror  checks  her.  After  a  moment  she 
pulls  herself  together  and  says  very  coldly  :  "  Pish  ! 
You  are  not  worth  my  indignation  !  Let  me  give  you  a 
piece  of  information,  Mr.  Van  Cott.  After  I  refused  you 
the  third  time  I  crossed  you  off  my  visiting  list  !  " 

"  Oh,  you  did,  did  you  !  "  he  says  down-heartedly,  for 
the  entree  to  Lady  Annerley's  is  very  useful  to  all  young 
men  who  wish  to  be  fashionable  ;  and  then  he  adds  quite 
vivaciously,  as  if  an  idea  has  suddenly  struck  him  : 
"  But,  by  Jove  !  I  didn't  cross  you  off  mine  ! — See  you  to 
morrow.  Regards  to  \hz  fiancee  !  "  and  goes  to  his  gon 
dola. 

While  being  rowed  away,  a  sudden  light  comes  into 
his  face,  and  he  mutters  :  "  My  gracious  !  If  the  widdah 
is  not  smashed  on  the  Australian  !  That's  what  made  her 
so  rummy  to  me.  This  is  too  rich  for  anything.  Ha  ! 
ha  !  ha  !  "  and  this  little  exponent  of  the  caddish  civili 
zation  of  the  nineteenth  century  bursts  into  a  shriek  of 
laughter  at  the  crushing  and  mangling  of  the  heart  of  a 
woman  who  has  been  always  kinder  to  him  than  he  de 
served. 

And  oh,  how  crushed  and  mangled  it  is  !  Sarah  An 
nerley  sits  and  thinks  in  the  antique  room,  very  silent, 
very  quiet,  save  that  occasional  nervous  wringing  of  the 
hands  peculiar  to  despair.  At  last  she  cries  :  "  I'll  not 
believe  it !  Gratitude  should  make  him  love  me  as  it 
made  me  love  him.  His  wounds  for  my  sake,  my,  fight- 


114  MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

ing  death  for  him  and  winning  him,  gave  him  to  me  !  It 
was  a  ceremony.  WE  ARE  HUSBAND  AND  WIFE  !  Let  her 
dare  to  take  him  !  "  Then  she  mutters  :  "  It  is  not  pos 
sible  ;  when  he  was  weak  he  was  mine,  now  he  is  strong 
he  will  not  desert  me,"  and  for  a  moment  is  happy  and 
does  not  believe. 

But  merry  voices  are  heard  in  the  hall  and  they  all 
come  in  to  her,  chatting  and  laughing  and  very  happy. 
She  looks  at  Ethel's  hand  and  it  is  there,  flashing,  and 
glittering,  and  carrying  despair  and  wickedness  into  her 
heart — the  engagement  ring  ! 

Following  her  gaze,  Errol  says  :  "  Dear  Lady  Sarah, 
Ethel  and  I  have  a  little  story  to  whisper  to  you  ;  one 
with  which  we  hope  you  will  be  pleased."  Then  he  tells 
her,  and  at  last  Sarah  Annerley  knows  that  Charley  Errol 
and  Ethel  Lincoln  love  and  will  marry — if  Providence 
and  she  will  let  them. 

For  Satan  has  been  watching  his  opportunity,  and  here 
whispers  something  in  her  ear  that  puts  a  smile  of  tri 
umph  in  her  face  and  strength  of  purpose  in  her  heart, 
that  gives  her  power  to  return  the  compliments  and  good 
wishes  usual  on  such  occasions. 

This  being  over,  she  turns  to  Miss  Potter,  who  has 
been  occupied  at  the  piano  with  Arthur  during  this  con 
versation,  and  says,  perhaps  a  little  maliciously,  for  she 
is  not  inclined  to  be  very  kind  to  any  one  ^  this  evening  : 
"  Shall  I  congratulate  you  also,  my  dear  ?  " 

Whereupon  Ida  gives  a  blush,  steps  up  to  my  lady, 
and  affects  to  laugh,  but  replies  demurely :  "  Not  at 
present.  Nobody  has  given  me  a  ring  yet  !  "  and  holds 
up  a  hand  and  arm  as  faultlessly  white  and  deliriously 
soft,  rounded,  lovely,  and  statuesque  as  anything  ex 
hibited  in  the  Louvre  or  dug  up  from  Athenian  ruins,  to 
remind  us  women  were  always  beautiful.  The  hand  has 
no  ornament  whatsoever,  and  needs  none  ;  the  arm  around 
its  glistening  wrist,  that  would  be  colorless  as  marble  were 
it  not  for  a  blush  that  seems  to  have  come  upon  it  as  the 
girl  speaks,  for  her  face  is  rosy  also,  has  a  circlet  of  plain 
massive  gold  to  which  hangs  a  single  English  sovereign 
as  a  bangle. 

Looking  at  this,  Lady  Annerley  says  :  "  Bracelets  are 
binding  as  well  as  rings  ! " 

"  Then  I  was  captured  in  my  early  youth,    laughs  Miss 


MR.  ^POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  115 

Potter.  "I've  worn  this  almost  as  long  as  I  can  remem 
ber.  Papa  says  it's  my  lucky  sovereign.  It's  quite  a 
family  souvenir  I  believe.  Its  date  is  rather  old — 1849— 
long  before  I  was  born. " 

Under  the  excuse  of  showing  the  coin  she  gets  near 
Arthur  again,  who  whispers  with  a  sigh  of  relief  :  "  I've 
often  wondered  who  put  that  bracelet  upon  your  arm  ?  " 

"  So  you  were  jeal —  "  She  checks  herself  suddenly, 
though  her  eyes  seem  to  show  the  thought  she  has  not 
expressed  has  made  her  happy. 

"Jealous?  Certainly!  awfully  jealous  !"  returns  the 
young  man.  "When  can  I  destroy  my  jealousy  by  a 
ring?" 

She  looks  at  him  a  moment  and  then  says,  apparently 
forcing  herself  to  speak  calmly  :  "  I  have  just  received  a 
letter  from  America.  Within  the  week  my  father  will  be 
in  England.  See  my  father  !  " 

"  I  leave  for  England  to-night !  " 

"  Oh,  not  so  fast !  "  says  the  girl.  "  Steamers  never 
arrive  in  less  than  seven  days,  no  matter  how  anxious  we 
are,  and  a  little  more  of  your  company,  Arthur, — for 
perhaps  after  you  see  my  father — I  shall  see  you  no 
more  !  "  the  last  a  little  sadly. 

"  Do  you  think  Mr.  Potter  will  refuse  me  ? "  replies  the 
young  man  in  so  scared  a  voice  that  Miss  Potter  laughs, 
though  not  very  merrily.  "  I'm  only  a  barrister  now,  of 
course,  but,  barring  a  republic,  I'll  sit  in  the  House  of 
Lords  some  day.  I've  not  a  great  deal  of  money,  but 
sufficient  to  support  you  - 

"  Oh,  I've  enough  of  that  for  both,"  she  interrupts 
hurriedly.  "  I'd  marry  you  if  you  were  a  beggar  !  " 

"  Would  you  ?  God  bless  you  !  "  he  cries  and  seizes  her 
hand,  but  she  pulls  it  away  and  mutters  :  "  See  my  father, 
perhaps  he'll — "  Here  she  suddenly  checks  herself  and 
running  to  Ethel  cries,  affecting  vivacity  :  "  Some  music, 
miss  ;  show  us  the  value  of  your  two-guinea-a-minute 
lessons  from  Le  Bellecord,  the  tenor  ! "  and  is  apparently 
in  high  spirits  for  the  rest  of  the  evening  on  account 
of  the  approach  of  the  paternal  Potter. 

During  this  episode  of  Arthur  and  Ida,  the  devil  has 
been  doing  some  fine  work  for  Lady  Annerley.  A  serv 
ant  has  brought  in  to  Errol  a  telegram  that  has  just 
arrived.  Glancing  over  this  the  young  man  cries  :  "  Glori* 


Il  •       MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

ous  !     My  governor  will  be  in  London  in  a  week.     Thii 
is  dated  from  Gibraltar." 

"  Coming  home  ? "  and  they  are  all  around  him  with 
questions  except  Lady  Annerley,  who  has  given  a  start 
and  muttered  to  herself  :  "  I  have  her  ! "  for  her  rage  is 
not  directed  against  the  man  whom  she  loves,  but  the 
woman  whom  she  hates. 

"  Yes,  isn't  it  grand  !  "  continues  Errol  in  explanation, 
"  The  pater  hasn't  been  home  since  he  emigrated  from 
England  over  thirty  years  ago  !  " 

^  Why,  Charley,  he'll  be  at  the  wedding !  "  suddenly 
cries  Ethel ;  but  this  speech  getting  a  burst  of  laughter 
from  some  of  the  rest  she  goes  off  and  blushes  by  her 
self  in  a  corner. 

"  Never  mind,  Ethel  !  "  says  her  lover,  blushing  also, 
"we're  ahead  of  some  people  we  know,"  and  he  gives 
a  look  at  Ida  and  Arthur,  which  makes  them  stop 
laughing  and  try  to  appear  as  if  they  did  not  understand 
him. 

"  What  do  you  suppose  has  induced  your  father  to  take 
this  step  ?  "  says  Lady  Annerley. 

"  You  see,  nearly  a  month  ago  I  cabled  him,"  returns 
Errol,  "  that  I  hoped  to  get  married  !  " 

"Oh!  "cries  Ethel,  suddenly  jumping  up  from  her 
corner,  "  how  dared  you  do  it  ?  What  encouragement 
had  I  given  you  ?  Oh,  Charley,  how  bold  your  father 
will  think  me  !  " 

"  Not  at  all.  I  only  suggested  that  I  had  seen  the  girl 
—and  she  was  not  engaged  !  "  returns  her  lover  with  a 
grin.  "  Upon  receipt  of  the  news,  the  old  gentleman 
seems  to  have  been  anxious  to  bless  you,  and  steamed  for 
Europe." 

"  Would  you  mind  my  seeing  the  message  ? "  asks  Lady 
Annerley,  who  now  suffers  the  agony  of  knowing  that 
Errol  has  fallen  in  love  with  her  rival  at  first  sight. 

"The  rest  of  it  is  only— only  private  business  !  "  mut 
ters  the  Australian,  a  shadow  coming  over  his  face.  As 
he  says  this  he  pockets  the  telegram. 

"  The  rest  is  bad  news,"  says  Ethel,  who  has  grown  to 
read  ErroPs  frank  face  very  well  in  the  last  few  weeks. 
"Oh,  Charley!" 

"  It's   not   important-  enough   to   call   bad  news," 
returns  the  young  man. 


MR.   POTTER   OF    TEXAS.  1 17 

"  Anyway,  nothing  can  separate  us  now,"  murmurs  the 
girl. 

"  Nothing  !  "  he  repeats. 

'*  We  shall  see  !  "  laughs  Lady  Annerley  to  herself,  and 
the  fiend  inside  her  gives  a  hideous  giggle. 

"  You  will  excuse  me  if  I  say  good  night,  I — I  am 
rather  fatigued,"  she  says  after  a  moment,  and  then  :  "  I 
presume  I  shall  have  to  chaperon  you  girls  back  to  Eng 
land  in  a  day  or  two,"  and  bids  them  adieu. 

As  she  gets  to  the  door,  Ethel  runs  up  to  her  and  takes 
her  hand  saying  :  "  Isn't  it  lovely,  dear  Lady  Sarah  ? 
Just  fancy,  I'm  going  to  marry  the  man  who  saved  your 
life — my  Charley  !  " 

But  even  her  happy  looks  and  trusting  love  do  not 
turn  Lady  Annerley,  who  goes  up  to  her  room,  and  there 
her  temper  breaking  its  chain  she  acts  like  a  mad  woman, 
and  laughs  and  chuckles  ;  "  If  I  had  told  him  in  Egypt 
he'd  be  sure  of  her.  Now  Heaven  has  given  me  this  to 
tear  her  from  him  !  God  bless  my  father  for  his  tale  !  " 
Then  the  noise  of  music  coming  to  her  makes  her  wilder 
and  more  mad  ;  for  it  is  Ethel's  happy  voice  singing 
"  Bonny  Prince  Charlie,"  which  she  rings  out,  putting  as 
much  love,  devotion,  and  adoration  in  the  beautiful  old 
ballad  as  those  did  who,  nearly  two  centuries  ago,  first 
sung  the  strain  that  meant  death,  woe,  and  despair  to  them 
who  gave  up  their  lives  and  blood  in  the  battle  and  on 
the  scaffold  for  the  cause  of  "  Bonny  Scotch  Charlie." 
As  Ethel  sings  her  love-song  below  Lady  Annerley  writes 
its  requiem  above. 

This  she  does  on  plain  letter  paper  and  uncrested  en 
velope,  making  an  awkward  attempt  at  a  disguised  hand, 
and  addressing  it  very  carefully  to  the  Home  Secretary 
of  the  English  Government,  London,  and  putting  double 
postage  on  the  letter,  being  desperately  afraid  it  will  in 
some  way  miscarry. 

After  it  is  finished  she  looks  at  it  and  says  :  "  Charley, 
forgive  me  for  the  meanest  crime  on  earth  !  "  Then  hur 
ries  to  finish  the  business  before  she  can  repent. 

Wrapped  in  some  dark  covering,  she  glides  down  stairs, 
and  passing  the  closed  doors  of  the  parlor,  from  which 
the  song,  laughter,  and  happy  voices  still  come  to  her 
and  make  her  cruel,  Lady  Annerley  goes  down  the  steps 
to  the  waters  of  the  Grand  Canal,  and  cautiously  signals  9 


II 3  MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 

gondola  cruising  about  for  a  passing  fare.  It  is  rowed 
by  two  sturdy  men,  and  as  the  night  is  dark  one  of  the 
gondoliers  holds  a  lantern  up  to  light  her  steps  as  the 
other  assists  her  into  the  boat.  She  passes  over  the  gun 
wale  and  mutters:  "Piazza  di  San  Marco!  Quick!'' 
and  the  lantern  gives  them  a  glimpse  of  her  face. 

The  two  men  whisper  together  a  moment  :  then  one 
of  them  relinquishes  his  oar  and  stands  just  behind  her, 
and  though  she  cries  to  him  to  go  back  to  his  work,  the 
fellow  will  not  leave  her  side. 

She  cannot  imagine  the  reason  of  this,  but  it  is  because 
the  passions  on  her  face  have  been  so  awful  that  the  men 
think  she  means  to  commit  suicide  and  fear  she  may 
drown  herself. 

Gliding  over  the  calm  waters  the  boat  lands  her  at  the 
Piazza  di  San  Marco,  and  saying  "  Wait  !  "  she  sneaks 
away  into  the  darkness,  trembling  for  fear  some  one  may 
recognize  her.  Finding  no  one  near  her,  for  it  is  now 
eleven  o'clock  at  night  and  the  Piazza  quite  deserted,  she 
steps  up  to  one  of  the  Government  letter-boxes,  and  after 
a  second's  struggle  drops  the  message  into  it.  Then  shud 
dering  and  ashamed  of  her  own  cruelty,  she  repents  and 
would  have  it  back  again  at  any  cost,  as  many  have  done 
before  in  that  same  Piazza  di  San  Marco,  centuries  ago, 
after  they  had  thrown  the  fatal  accusation  into  the  lion's 
mouth,  and  condemned  some  one  once  loved,  now  hated, 
to  the  Council  of  Ten,  the  dungeon,  and  the  rack. 

This  whole  business  is  so  like  that  of  ancient  Venice, 
that  this  idea  comes  into  her  mind,  and  she  gives  a 
nasty  laugh  and  thinks  :  "  How  history  repeats  itself," 
as  she  returns  to  the  gondola. 

She  is  quickly  rowed  home  where,  the  lights  being  out> 
she  steals  up  to  her  own  apartments  and  goes  to  bed, 
but  not  to  sleep  ;  and  the  next  morning  mutters,  gazing 
in  the  mirror,  but  hanging  her  head :  "  Shall  I  ever  be 
able  to  look  myself  in  the  face  again  ?" 

But,  notwithstanding,  she  contrives  to  look  quite  fresh 
this  morning,  though  it  is  the  first  time  in  her  life  she 
has  been  compelled  to  the  use  of  rouge. 

A  day  or  two  after  the  whole  pa'ty  take  the  railway 
through  Northern  Italy  and  journey  by  easy  stages  via 
Turin  and  Mont  Cenis  to  Paris,  where  ladies  always  find 
some  shopping  to  detain  them. 


MR.    POTTER  OF   TEXAS.  I  If 

Here  Arthur  leaves  them  and  goes  on  to  tell  his  father 
what  Miss  Ethel  intends  to  do  and  what  he  would  like 
to  do.  His  place,  however,  is  taken  by  Mr.  Van  Cott, 
who  runs  against  them  in  Paris 

Finding  Arthur  absent,  this  young  gentleman  says  to 
himself:  "  Miss  Potter  has  thrown  him.  I'll  have  an 
other  try  for  an  heiress !  By  George  !  I'll— it  comes 
hard,  but  I'll  sacrifice  myself.  For  her  dear  sake  I'll  be* 
come  a  cowboy  !  " 

So,  learning  that  the  party  are  bound  for  England,  B. 
Sidney  Van  Cott  appears  at  the  Chtmin  de  Per  du  Nord 
terminus,  drops  into  their  compartment,  rubs  his  eyeglass, 
and  exclaims  :  "  By  Jove  !  Miss  Potter,  you  reading  a 
telegram  ? " 

"  Yes,"  says  Ida,  an  expectant  happiness  in  her  face, 
"  it  is  from  my  father.  He  is  in  Liverpool,  and  will 
meet  me  at  Folkestone.  I  haven't  seen  him  for  four 
years." 

"  That's  awfully  jolly.  I'm  going  to  London  myself. 
I'll  take  charge  of  you  to  the  dear  papa ! "  murmurs 
the  little  wretch,  and  he  sits  down  and  makes  fun  for 
the  whole  party  till  they  come  to  the  great  quay  at  Bou 
logne. 

Here  Errol  receives  a  telegram  which  makes  him  cry, 
"  Hurrah  ! " 

This  he  answers,  then  takes  it  to  the  ladies  and  says  : 
"  My  governor's  in  London.  I  wonder  if  he'll  know  the 
place,  he  hasn't  seen  it  for  so  long !  " 

Then  the  Channel  steamer  sails  for  England,  on  its 
deck  Lady  Annerley,  her  conscience  crying  out  to  her 
with  every  rap  of  her  heart,  which  beats  more  wildly  as 
she  looks  at  Errol's  happy  face  and  thinks  this  is  the  last 
day  he'll  hold  his  head  up  among  men.  But  conscience 
dies  as  she  sees  Ethel  nestling  her  hand  in  his,  a  little 
serious  expression  on  her  face  as  she  thinks  how  her 
father,  the  great  judge,  will  receive  her  lover.  Though, 
looking  at  the  young  man,  pride  and  happiness  come  to 
the  girl's  eyes  and  she  mutters  :  "  Papa  '11  love  him  too, 
no  one  can  resist  my  Charley  ! " 

As  for  the  Australian,  hope  and  joy  fill  him  also.  He 
will  meet  his  dear  old  father  whom  three  months  ago  he 
nad  thought  to  see  no  more.  And  youth,  health,  and  ex 
citement  getting  the  better  of  conventionality  he  hums ; 


12*  MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

"  Home  Again  !  "  which  makes  Lady  Annerley  pant  and 
sigh  as  she  thinks  how  different  it  was  when  he  last  sang 
the  tune  in  the  house  of  Abdallahthe  Moor  ;  where  with 
danger  and  death  about  them  she  was  happier  than  she  is 
now. 

But  Errol  still  sings  on,  for  though  he  has  been  born 
in  Australia  and  lived  a  good  part  of  his  time  there,  the 
mother-country  feeling  comes  to  him  as  it  does  to  all  of 
true  Anglo-Saxon  descent  when  they  look  upon  this 
cradle  of  their  race,  THE  GREAT  WHITE  CLIFFS  OF  ALBION. 
So  the  ship  foams  her  way  to  England  this  bright  Oc 
tober  day  and  dashes  up  to  Folkestone  Harbor  ;  then 
the  great  engines  stop  and  the  boat  drifts  in  and  some  of 
those  who  stand  upon  her  deck  drift  into  the  crisis  of 
their  lives. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  HONORABLE  SAMPSON  POTTER,  OF  COMANCHE 
COUNTY,  TEXAS. 

ABOUT  three  o'clock  on  the  afternoon  of  this  same  day, 
Police  Sergeant  Thomas  Brackett,  from  Scotland  Yard, 
glances  carelessly  over  the  file  of  telegrams  for  early  de 
livery  at  the  office  of  the  West  Cliff  Hotel,  Folkestone, 
England.  Apparently  impressed  with  an  address  on  one 
of  the  envelopes  he  goes  into  the  tap-room,  takes  a  gulp 
of  his  favorite  "  'alf  and  'alf  ",  to  steady  his  nerves,  and 
mutters  to  himself :  "  In  the  detective  business  over 
thirty  years,  and  this  is  the  rummiest  job  of  the  lot !  " 

After  a  moment's  pause  of  consideration,  Brackett, 
whistling  to  his  dog  Snapper,  an  exquisite  little  black- 
and-tan  terrier  composed  of  flashing  eyes,  flying  limbs, 
pricked-up  ears,  and  barking  tongue,  leaves  the  house, 
and  walks  along  the  cliffs  to  where  he  can  sight  the  smoke 
of  the  steamer  from  Boulogne  crossing  the  English  Chan 
nel  to  connect  with  the  tidal  train  for  London. 

It  will  not  arrive  for  some  little  time,  and  the  detective 
lecsurely  fills  and  smokes  his  pipe,  sauntering  along  the 
road  that  runs  across  the  cliffs  toward  Sandgate  and 
Hythe.  During  the  promenade,  his  dog  makes  excur 
sions  into  the  surrounding  country,  producing  so  much 


MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  121 

noise  in  himself  and  excitement  among  neighboring  cats 
and  canines,  that,  seeing  a  large  bull-dog  approaching,  his 
master  calls  Snapper  to  him  and  puts  him  in  his  over 
coat  pocket  for  safety.  This  is  easily  done  as  the  little 
creature  weighs  only  twenty-two  ounces,  half  of  which  is 
vivacious  electricity.  Upon  this,  Snapper  sets  up  a  tre 
mendous  yell  ;  and  after  a  moment's  reflection  the  ser 
geant  remarks  :  "  I  know  what  it  is,  Snapper  !  Them 
darbies  is  cold,"  and  appeases  his  little  pet  by  removing 
him  to  his  other  pocket.  For  Snapper  has  been  on  too 
many  excursions  with  Sergeant  Brackett  not  to  know 
that  handcuffs  are  hard  and  cold  pocket  companions. 

Occupied  between  his  pipe  and  his  dog  the  picturesque 
scene  has  no  effect  on  the  detective.  The  wide-spread 
ing  view  of  the  English  Channel  with  the  distant  French 
coast,  the  fresh  green  verdure  of  the  surrounding  Kent 
ish  heights,  and  far  below  him  the  soft  splash  of  the 
waves,  upon  the  chalk-cliffs  ;  with,  on  his  left  in  the  val 
ley,'  the  busy  commerce  of  the  railway  and  shipping  in 
the  port,  all  lighted  up  by  a  sunny  brightness  that  seems 
to  be  wafted  by  the  breeze  across  the  water  and  belong 
rather  to  France  than  to  England,  would  impress  any  one 
but  Sergeant  Brackett.  He,  however,  with  Anglo-Saxon 
stolidity,  proceeds  to  find  a  comfortable  stile  upon  which 
to  sit,  and  produces  a  copy  of  the  day's  edition  of  the 
London  Times,  through  the  columns  of  which  he  plods  in 
a  dogged  manner,  reading  over  the  advertisements  as  if 
he  had  so  much  time  to  kill  and  meant  to  kill  it. 

Suddenly,  however,  Brackett  becomes  an  animated  hu 
man  being  once  more,  and  exclaims  to  Snapper,  who  is 
now  sitting  beside  him  and  licking  his  hand  :  "  Rummier 
and  rummier !  Darned  if  the  lawyers  ain't  advertising 
again  for  that  Sammy  Potts.  Every  detective  in  Eng 
land  has  tried  at  odd  times  for  the  last  thirty  years  to  find 
that  individual  and  never  a  trace.  Wonder  if  they  think 
the  newspapers  is  smarter  than  the  police?  Some 'of 
these  legal  chaps  is  natural  born  fools." 

With  this  tribute  to  the  detective  force  of  England, 
Sergeant  Brackett  relapses  into  the  columns  of  the  Times 
once  more.  After  a  few  minutes,  every-day  news  and 
commonplace  information  seem  to  pall  upon  his  mind, 
which  appears  to  prefer  the  excitement  of  penny  fiction 
to  the  humdrum  of  penny  news,  and  the  detective  sub- 


122  MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS. 

stitutes  for  the  paper  a  cheap  novel  bearing  the  blood 
curdling  title  of  The  Scalpers  of  the  Far  West.  This 
treasure  of  literature  the  sergeant  had  picked  up  at  a 
news  stand  upon  his  way  down  from  London,  and  had 
been  longing  to  get  a  peep  at  its  fascinating  horrors  ;  for 
Brackett  enjoyed  American  border  life  in  fiction  and  had 
read  everything  pertaining  to  it  in  literature  from  Mayne 
Reid's  stories  to  Texas  Jack — and  what's  more,  believed 
what  he  read.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  sergeant  had  at 
one  time  in  his  life  thought  of  emigrating  to  America, 
and  would  have  done  so  but  for  the  curious  idens  he 
had  of  American  barbarism  and  the  extraordinary  belief 
he  had  of  transatlantic  blood-thirstiness,  scalping,  and 
general  cussedness,  engendered  by  these  books. 

Noting  his  master's  preoccupation,  young  Snapper 
thinks  this  is  his  chance  for  fun,  and  makes  off  with  great 
barking  after  a  handsome  brougham  drawn  by  a  pair  of 
fine  hacks  and  ornamented  by  a  couple  of  elaborate 
flunkies  that  drives  rapidly  past  from  the  direction  of 
Sandgate.  This  awakens  Sergeant  Brackett  ;  he  calls 
his  dog  back  and  proceeds  to  the  pier  to  await  the  ar 
rival  of  the  Boulogne  boat ;  while  the  carnage  Snapper 
had  pursued  stops  in  front  of  the  West  Cliff  Hotel.  Ar 
thur  Lincoln  gets  out  of  it,  and  is  received  by  Lubbins, 
the  head  waiter  of  the  establishment,  with  that  abject  hu 
mility  and  deference  that  only  an  English  servant  can 
assume  when  in  the  presence  of  his  own  to-be-fawned- 
upon  aristocracy. 

One  can  see  DeBrctfs  Peerage  and  Burke's  Landed 
Gentry  in  Lubbins'  meek  eye  and  obsequious  bow  as 
he  says  :  "  Yes,  Mr.  Harthur,  Lord  Lincoln  is  now  in  the 
reception-room  hawaiting  your  coming." 

"  No,  he's  not,  Lubbins,"  is  heard  in  a  kindly  voice 
from  the  hall-way,  and  the  next  instant  Percy  Lincoln  is 
shaking  hands  with  his  son.  The  moment's  silent  in 
spection  of  each  other,  natural  to  a  meeting  after  several 
months'  separation,  being  over,  the  elder  man  suddenly 
says  to  the  younger.  "  Where's  Ethe!  ?  " 

*'  Coming  on  the  Boulogne  boat  with  Lady  Annerley 
and  Miss  Potter.  I  ran  over  last  night  ahead  of  them  to 
be  sure  the  villa  would  be  ready." 

"  The  tidal  boat  '11  be  '  ere  in  twenty  minutes,  my 
lord,"  remarks  Lubbins  with  another  and  even  more 


MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  12$ 

obsequious  bow,  rolling  the  word  "  lord  "  round  his  mouth 
as  if  it  were  too  sweet  a  morsel  to  let  go  easily,  and  em 
phasizing  the  title  by  an  elaborate  and  elegant  wave  of 
his  napkin. 

"  Then  come  in  and  tell  me  all  about  your  trip,  Ar 
thur,"  says  the  peer,  and  throwing  his  arm  affectionately 
around  his  son,  leads  that  young  gentleman  into  a  little 
parlor  separated  from  the  coffee-room  of  the  hotel  by  a 
hall. 

As  they  enter,  a  voice  with  that  curious  twang  peculiar 
to  the  Southwestern  States  of  America,  loud  but  not  harsh, 
sonorous  but  extraordinarily  soft  at  times,  comes  to  their 
ears  from  the  coffee-room. 

It  says :  "  Lubbins,  old  'os,  is  that  'ere  lunch  ready  ? 
I'm  like  ha  Hindian  on  a  U.  Hess  reservation— starving." 

This  thoroughly  American  voice  and  accent,  mixed 
with  this  abuse  of  the  letter  "//","  peculiar  only  to  cock 
neys  of  the  most  pronounced  description,  give  such  an 
extraordinary  effect  to  this  speech  that  the  elder  Lincoln 
smiles  and  the  younger  one  laughs  outright,  whispering 
to  his  father  :  "  A  rather  curious  character  I  should 
think." 

Lubbins  ejaculates  :  "  Yes,  your  worship  !  "  and  after  a 
deprecating  bow  and  an  "  Excuse  me,  back  in  a  minute, 
my  lord,"  darts  into  the  coffee-room. 

Arthur  Lincoln  smiles  after  the  departing  waiter,  and 
remarks  :  "  He  knows." 

"  Knows  what  ?  oh,  ah,  yes  ;  I  forgot.  I  suppose  you 
mean  that  Her  Majesty's  Government  have  for  long  and 
distinguished  services  (I'm  quoting  from  the  patent  of 
nobility,  Arthur)  retired  me  from  my  judgeship  to  be 
come  Baron  Lincoln  of  the  realm  and  receive  a  pension. 
I'm  afraid  there's  too  much  honor  and  too  little  work  in 
the  promotion." 

His  son  replies  :  "  But  it  is  whispered  at  Westminster 
that  when  our  party  comes  into  power  you  will  be  the 
next  Lord  Chancellor." 

**  Ah  !  our  party  hasn't  come  in  yet,"  laughs  Lord  Lin 
coln,  "  so  I'll  take  this  arm-chair  instead  of  the  woolsack 
for  the  present." 

With  this,  the  new-made  peer  selects  the  most  com 
fortable  seat  in  the  cozy  little  parlor,  and  sinks  into  it 
with  the  air  of  a  man  who  may  despise  honors  and  pen* 


124  MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

sions  theoretically,  but  who  knows  that  practically  they 
are  very  useful  things  in  this  selfish,  struggling  world. 

As  he  sits  there  a  bright  ray  of  sunlight  comes  in  the 
window,  tinging  his  hair  that  is  a  soft,  beautiful  gray,  and 
illuminating  the  finely  molded  head  and  strong,  manly 
countenance  beneath  it.  As  he  looks  at  him^  the  son 
cannot  help  thinking  how  proud  he  is  of  his  governor. 

The  face  before  him  is  not  only  that  of  a  great  lawyer, 
but  more  and  better  than  that,  one  of  a  good  man,  for 
the  broad  forehead,  that  betokens  logic  and  justice  and 
truth,  is  softened  by  a  kindly  expression  of  the  mouth 
and  eyes  that  indicates  the  more  divine  attribute  of 
mercy.  Percy  Lincoln's  record  of  thirty  odd  years  upon 
the  English  bench  has  left  him,  all  over  Britain,  the 
highest  of  reputations,  that  of  a  just  and  honest,  but 
also  kind-hearted,  judge. 

One  of  the  most  hardened  criminals  in  England  once 
said  that  he  hated  to  be  tried  by  Judge  Lincoln,  because 
his  honor  always  looked  at  him  in  such  a  blarsted  kind, 
downey,  and  merciful-like  way  that  he  had  a  sort  of  in 
sane  desire  to  peach  upon  himself  and  give  away  his  pals 
and  partners  in  the  job.  It  is,  perhaps,  something  of  this 
kind  of  feeling  that  comes  into  the  son's  mind  as  he 
stands  cogitating  how  he  shall  best  make  two  confessions 
to  his  father,  one  for  his  sister  and  the  other  for  himself. 
After  a  jnoment  he  concludes  it  is  just  as  well  to  confess 
on  his  sister  first  and  see  how  the  governor  stands  it  be 
fore  he  lets  the  cat  out  of  the  bag  regarding  himself. 

Here  Lord  Lincoln  breaks  in  upon  his  meditation,  re 
marking  :  "  You  left  Ethel  in  Paris.  She  has  not  written 
to  me  lately.  This  is  unusual.  What  has  she  been 
doing  ? " 

"  Shopping." 

"  Shopping  ? " 

"  Oh,  that's  what  all  girls  do  in  Paris,  governor.  Ida 
— that  is,  Miss  Potter—  "  the  young  man  checks  himself 
rather  suddenly,  apparently  a  little  embarrassed  over  his 
slip  of  the  tongue  on  the  name  Ida. 

''Well,  Ida- that  is,  Miss  Potter  "—laughs  the  peer, 
imitating  his  son,  who  blushes  slightly  at  this,  "  is  a  most 
fascinating  girl.  What  was  she  doing  ?  " 

"  Oh,  she — she  was  shopping  also." 

"And  their  chaperon,  Lady  Annerley,  was  she  shop 


MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS.  12$ 

ping,  too?  Was  the  young  widow  coming  out  of  half 
mourning  ? " 

"  Not  at  all !  " 

"  Affectation  !  "  ejaculates  Lord  Lincoln.  "  No  one 
ever  supposed  she  loved  her  old  husband." 

"  I  suppose  she'll  make  a  love-match  now." 

"That  rich  young  Australian,  T  understand,"  says 
Lord  Lincoln,  rising  and  trying  to  get  a  glimpse  of  the 
Boulogne  boat  out  of  the  window. 

"  I  don't  think  so,"  replies  the  son,  rather  hotly. 

lt Indeed  ;  why  not?"  says  the  old  lawyer,  cross-ques 
tioning  the  young  lawyer.  "  Doesn't  Lady  Sarah  love 
.him?" 

"  Don't  ask  me  to  judge  both  a  woman  and  a  widow, 
Sometimes  I  think  she  almost  hates  him  ;  sometimes  I 
fear  she  loves  him  !  " 

"  You  fear  she  loves  him?"  says  Lord  Lincoln,  taking 
a  quick  glance  at  his  son.  "  You  don't  love  her  yourself, 
do  you,  Arthur  ? " 

"  No,  but  I  don't  want  her  to  love  him  !  " 

"  Indeed  !     Why  not  ? " 

This  is  the  young  man's  chance  to  do  the  confessing 
for  his  sister  and  he  takes  it.  "  Because  the  gentleman 
you  have  been  speaking  of  is  engaged  to  marry  your 
daughter ! " 

The  judge  swings  around  from  the  window,  gasps, 
"  My  daughter  !  Ethel  ? "  and  sinks  into  a  seat.  Being 
agitated  he  does  not  now  select  as  comfortable  a  one  as 
before.  After  gazing  speechless  at  his  son,  who  plays  a 
staccato  movement  with  his  fingers  upon  the  table,  he 
gasps  again  :  "  And  she  consented,  without  consulting 
me  ? " 

"  Their  engagement  is  subject  to  your  approval.  Mr. 
Errol  will  call  upon  you  to-morrow  !  " 

"  Errol !  That's  the  young  man's  name,  is  it  ? "  asks 
the  judge. 

"  Yes,  Charley  Errol.  You  must  have  heard  of  him 
before." 

"  It  seems  to  me  I  have,  somewhere,  but  never  in  con 
nection  with  Lady  Annerley.  Everybody  that  hinted  at 
the  beautiful  widow  being  in  love  with  him  seemed  to 
envy  the  young  fellow  his  powers  of  fascination  for  one 
of  the  catches  of  the  matrimonial  market3  and  rathe* 


126  MR.    POTTER  OF   TEXAS. 

sneered  at  him,  calling  him,  '  Mr.  Sheepfarmer,'  *  Young 
Antipodes,'  *  Kangaroo,  Esq.,'  and  other  jovial  expres 
sions  of  malice ! " 

"  They  couldn't  say  anything  against  him,  morally  or 
personally.  Charley  Errol  is  one  of  the  best  of  fellows 
in  the  world.  If  any  one  decries  him  send  him  to  me ! " 
returns  the  son  rather  hotly,  for  Arthur  Lincoln  was  of 
an  impulsive  nature,  and,  with  the  rashness  of  youth,  was 
rather  too  ready  at  times  to  resent  any  slight  upon  either 
his  friends  or  himself. 

"So  you're  his  champion  and  his  ambassador — you 
know  him  well  enough  for  that  ? "  queries  his  father. 

"We  were  together  at  Oxford  and  passable  friends, 
but  during  the  last  two  months  in  Italy  he  has  captured 
me  as  completely  as — as  he  has  my  sister." 

"  Then  you  think  Ethel  loves  him — very  much  ? "  says 
the  peer  rather  seriously  and  with  a  slight  sigh. 

For  what  father  is  not  saddened  by  the  news  that  the 
girl  who  has  left  him  but  a  few  weeks  before  almost  a 
child  with  only  him  for  her  idol,  will  return  to  him  with 
a  woman's  passion  in  her  heart  and  another  and  stronger 
deity  on  the  altar  of  her  love?  Percy  Lincoln  was  too 
wise  not  to  know  that  some  day  this  must  happen  to  his 
only  daughter,  but  he  had  hoped  that  the  day  was  of 
the  future,  not  of  the  present. 

As  he  is  turning  this  rather  bitter  mental  pill  over  in 
his  mind,  the  American  voice  and  Cockney  accent  come 
in  through  the  partly  open  door  of  the  parlor  crying : 
"  Lubbins,  which  '11  be  here  first,  my  lunch  or  that  ere 
tidal-wave  steamboat?  It  must  have  got  snagged  on 
the  way  from  Bo-lo-«/  this  arternoon  ;  I'm  getting  as 
impatient  for  my  darter  as  a  cowboy  is  for  whisky  ! " 

Lubbins'  obsequious  voice  soothes  his  impatience  with, 
"  Lunch  is  served,  sir." 

"  Hurrah  !  Let  me  know  when  my  daughter  arrives. 
Now  I'm  on  to  the  lunch  like  a  praharee  afire  !  "  and 
a  clattering  of  dishes,  knives  and  forks  indicates  that 
the  "  praharee  afire  "  will  make  very  short  work  of  the 
lunch. 

Arthur  Lincoln,  with  a  rather  disgusted  shrug  of  his 
aristocratic  shoulders,  strides  to  the  door  and  closes  it 
with  a  bang,  cutting  short  any  more  noise  from  the  coffee- 
room,  as  his  father  says  to  him  rather  sternly:  "  How  did 


MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  127 

all  this  happen,  Arthur,  and   you   never  write  me   one 
word  in  regard  to  it?    Neither  did  Ethel." 

The  last  phrase  has  an  implied  reproach  in  it  for  the 
absent  young  lady  at  which  her  brother  takes  up  her  cause 
and  does  battle  for  it  in  these  words  :  "  Now,  governor, 
don't  fly  up  about  the  little  girl  J  It  all  happened  so 
suddenly." 
"Suddenly?" 

"  Yes.  You  see  when  we  arrived  in  Venice,  Miss  Pot 
ter,  Ethel  and  I,  a  month  or  more  ago,  we  met  Errol  at 
Lady  Annerley's." 

Here  his  father  suddenly  interrupts  him  with,  "  Errol  ! 
I  surely  have  known  some  one  of  that  name,"  and  ap 
pears  to  think  deeply  for  a  moment ;  then  quickly  says  : 
"Continue,  please  !  I  beg  your  pardon." 

"Well,  he  was  an  inmate  of  the  house.  He  had  been 
wounded  nearly  to  death  in  defending  Lady  Annerley  in 
Egypt,  and  she,  in  Venice,  had  nursed  him  to  convales 
cence  in  a  kind  of  motherly  way." 

"  Motherly  !  A  widow  of  twenty-five  and  a  young 
man  of — of  any  age  !  "  sneers  Lord  Lincoln,  who  does 
not  seem  altogether  pleased  with  his  son's  story. 

"  Errol  is  about  twenty-eight  or  nine,  I  believe,"  con 
tinues  Arthur;  "but  whether  Lady  Annerley's  affection 
was  motherly  or  not,  Charley's  was  certainly  not  more 
than  fraternal ;  for  the  moment  he  saw  Ethe'l  it  became 
a  wonderful  case  of  '  spoons '  upon  his  part,  as  well  as 
on  that  of  my  sister." 

^  Then  you  think  Ethel  really  loves  him  ? "  says  Lord 
Lincoln,  who,  though  he  detests  slang,  is  in  this  case  too 
interested  to  pretend  that  he  does  not  understand  it. 

"  Loves  him  ?  You  know  how  proud  she  is ;  if  she  did 
not  love  Charley  Errol,  do  you  suppose  Ethel  would  let 
him—-  "  here  Arthur  pauses  in  a  shame-faced  way, 
conscious  from  the  expression  on  his  father's  face  that 
he  has  told,  perhaps,  a  little  too  much  of  his  sister's 
story. 

"  You  don't  mean  to  tell  me  that  he  had  the  audacity 
to  kiss  my  daughter  ! "  gasps  his  lordship. 

"I'm  afraid  so,"  replies  his  son,  after  a  moment's  pause 
of  consideration,  conscious  that  he  might  as  well  make  a 
clean  breast  of  the  matter. 

The  old  man  ejaculates  "  Good  heavens  !  "  in  such  a 


1*8  MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

horror-struck  tone  that  Arthur  hardly  chokes  down  a 
hysterical  titter.  For  Lord  Lincoln,  though  perfectly 
conscious  that  any  other  man's  daughter  would  be  kissed 
by  her  fianct,  scarcely  deems  it  possible  that  any  lover 
would  have  the  audacity  to  offer  a  betrothal  salute  to  his 
own  pet  lamb,  that  he  has  set  apart  from,  and  imagined 
more  immaculate  than  the  rest  of  the  human  flock. 

"  You  see,"  continues  Arthur  in  a  slightly  deprecating 
tone,  "  it  was  one  night  in  Venice  ;  they  had  just  taken 
me  into  their  confidence  ;  it  was  moonlight,  Italian  moon- 
-light.  They  were  in  one  end  of  the  gondola,  I  in  the 
other." 

Here  the  old  lawyer  entirely  confounds  the  young 
lawyer,  for  he  suddenly  interrupts  him  by  questioning. 
"Then  who  was  in  your  end  of  the  gondola?  By 
George  !  with  your  poetry  one  would  think  you  in  love 
yourself." 

"  Ida-that  is  Miss  Potter,"  murmurs  the  son,  suddenly 

blushing. 

"  Miss  Potter  !  "  returns  his  lordship,  who  apparently  is 
anxious  to  get  the  conversation  away  from  his  daughter's 
kiss,  "  a  lady  from  the  ends  of  her  thoroughbred  fingers 
to  the  tips  of  her  aristocratic  feet ;  every  point  about  her 
shows  blood.  Her  father  is  immensely  rich,  they  say, 
pastures  in  Texas  covered  with  cattle  on  a  thousand  hills. 
I  have  admired  the  young  lady  ever  since  she  visited  u^ 
with  Ethel  from  Madame  Beaumanoir's  school.  After 
me  you  will  one  day  probably  be  a  peer  of  the  realm, 
and  it  never  does  a  nobleman  much  harm  to  have  a  good 
bank  account.  Miss  Potter  would  make  one  of  the  best 
wives,  best  mothers,  and  most  distinguished  ladies  in  all 
England.  I  would  not  object  to  your  marrying  her, 
Arthur.  Why  don't  you  take  my  advice  ? " 

"  I  have  !  " 

"  Eh  !  what !  you  don't  mean  it !  "  says  the  peer,  grasp 
ing  his  son  by  both  shoulders,  partly  to  keep  himself 
from  falling,  for  Lord  Lincoln  has  got  a  most  unexpected 
counter. 

"  Every  word  of  it,"  returns  the  young  man,  with  the 
enthusiasm  of  passion.  "  I  don't  care  for  her  fether's 
beeves,  but  I  do  care  for  his  daughter.  I  love  Ida  Potter, 
and  I've  asked  her  to  marry  me  !  " 

"And  she  said—"  suggests  Lord  Lincoln,  for  at  the 


MR.   POTTER  OF  TEXAS,  I»f 

end  of  his  speech  his  son  has  turned  suddenly  away  from 
his  gaze. 

"  She  said :  '  My  father  will  be  in  England  in  a  week. 
Don't  dare  to  speak  of  this  again  till  you  see  him  ! '  " 

"  What  could  she  want  to  wait  for  ? "  cries  the  peer 
rather  indignantly.  "  Most  American  girls  would  snap  at 
an  Honorable,  as  you  are  now,  Arthur  !  " 

"Perhaps  she  does  not  love  me,"  suggests  the  son  in 
a  melancholy  way,  pulling  out  the  fringe  of  the  curtain 
of  the  window  through  which  he  is  looking  with  an  ab 
sent-minded  destructiveness  that  would  have  driven  the 
proprietor  of  the  hotel  to  despair  had  he  seen  it. 

"  Pooh  !  "  jeers  Lord  Lincoln.  "  You  are  too  infernally 
modest.  I've  seen  her  look  at  you  before  you  left  Eng 
land,  two  months  ago,  and  the  girl  had  already  brought 
in  a  verdict  in  your  favor.  Hang  it!  it  can't  be  that 
she  fears  her  father  will  not  be  pleased  with  the  al 
liance.  Old  Potter,  I've  no  doubt,  from  his  daughter's 
appearance,  is  an  aristocrat,  but  he's  got  a  very  high 
social  appetite  if  he  can't  stomach  us  !  " 

Any  further  eulogy  of  the  Lincoln  pedigree  is  cut 
short  by  the  entry  of  Lubbins,  who  brings  in  some  cigars 
and  wine  that  the  gentlemen  have  ordered.  After  the 
usual  custom  of  waiters  he  leaves  the  door  open,  and 
there  comes  floating  in  after  him  :  "  Lubbins  !  a  whisky 
and  water,  'ot  as  the  bilers  of  a  Mississippi  steamboat !  " 

"Disgusting  personage  that,"  remarks  his  lordship, 
rather  angry  at  being  interrupted. 

"  Very,"  rejoins  the  Honorable  Arthur,  who  is  rather 
aristocratic  in  his  tastes. 

"  I'll  close  the  door,"  suggests  Lubbins,  going  out  in 
response  to  the  demand  from  the  coffee-room.  After  a 
moment's  pause  Percy  Lincoln,  who  has  lit  the  end 
of  his  cigar  with  the  calm,  contemplative  manner  of 
a  man  upon  the  whole  pleased  with  the  news  Provi 
dence,  in  the  shape  of  his  son,  has  just  brought  him, 
picks  up  the  broken  end  of  the  conversation,  saying  : 

"What  is  your  future  father-in-law's  full  name.  Ar 
thur?" 

"The  Honorable  Sampson  Potter,"  replies  the  son, 
rather  proudly. 

"Ah!  one  of  their  judges  over  there,"  suggests  the 
peer,  tossing  his  head  in  the  direction  of  America. 


130  MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

"  No,  a  member  of  one  of  their  legislative  bodies,  I  be* 


Ah  !  of  course.  As  soon  as  you  meet  Mr.  Potter 
ask  him  to  visit  us.  I  should  like  to  discuss  with  him 
several  of  our  international  relations." 

"  I'll  give  him  your  invitation  with  a  great  deal  of 
pleasure,"  assents  Arthur,  rising  ;  "  but  it  must  be  nearly 
time  for  us  to  go  down  to  the  boat.  Ethel  will  expect 
you,  governor." 

"  I  suppose  her—  her  intended  is  dancing  attendance 
upon  the  girl,"  says  the  peer,  gulping  a  little  at  "the  in 
tended."  "  You'll  have  to  introduce  the  young  man  to 
me,  though  the  name  Errol  seems  familiar.  How  long 
has  his  father  lived  in  Australia  ?  " 

"  A  number  of  years." 

"  Charles  Errol  was  born  there  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  And  he  is  twenty-eight,  you  say  ;  then  his  father  must 
have  been  out  there  nearly  thirty  years  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  He's  made  an  immense  fortune  in  sheep 
farms.  I've  heard  Lord  Lansdowne  speak  of  how  mag 
nificently  he  entertained  him  when  he  was  in  Melbourne, 
a  few  years  ago.  Charley  Errol  is  his  only  child,  so  Ethel 
will  have  pots  of  money,"  continues  Arthur,  anxious  to  im 
press  his  father  with  the  strength  of  his  friend  as  a  mat 
rimonial  catch. 

The  young  man  would  go  on  effusively,  but  her 
Percy  Lincoln  interrupts  him  with  this  astonishing  ques- 

"  Is  the  elder  Errol  so  devoted  to  the  antipodes  that 
he  has  never  returned  to  England  ?  "  This  is  said  as  if 
a  sudden  idea  has  struck  the  questioner. 

"  I  have  never  heard  Charley  speak  of  his  father  visit 
ing  England." 

This  apparently  innocent  remark  has  a  great  ette 
upon  the  peer.     He  almost  staggers,  and  gasps,  "  Good 
heavens  !  "  in  a  broken,  pathetic  kind  of  way. 

The  son  does  not  notice  this,  for  he  is  just  looking  out 
of  the  window  at  the  steamboat  bearing  Miss  Potter  to 
his  side.  After  a  second  he  rather  corrects  himself  by 
saying  •  "  Mr.  Errol's  father  is  in  England  now  ! 

<<  A—  ah  !  "  this  is  a'sigh  of  relief  from  the  judge,  "  m 
England  now  ?  " 


MR.   POTTER  ©F  TEXAS.  I£t 

"  He  will  probably  meet  his  son  at  this  hotel  to-night  t " 

"Then  it's  all  right." 

f"  What  do  you  mean  ? "  says  his  son,  turning  from  the 
window  and  glancing  at  his  father,  the  peculiarity  in  the 
tones  of  whose  voice  has  caught  his  attention. 

"  Nothing,  now  !  "  says  the  peer.  "  Let's  go  down  and 
meet  the  party." 

With  this  the  two  men  go  to  the  front  door  of  the  hotel, 
the  peer  cracking  one  or  two  paternal  little  jokes  such  as 
old  gentlemen  indulge  in  when  young  gentlemen  are  rash 
enough  to  think  of  marriage  ;  apparently  working  him 
self  up  to  the  bless-you-my-children  act  of  contempo 
raneous  comedy  upon  his  daughter's  return. 

About  to  get  in  his  carriage,  he  says :  "  Errol,  Ralph 
Errol,  I  think  you  said  the  father's  name  was  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

Here  the  ex-judge  seems  to  meditate  a  moment,  and 
then  says  :  "  I— I  don't  think  I'll  go  down  to  the  boat 
I'm  hardly  up  to  the  exertion  !  " 

"  But  Ethel  '11  think  it  strange.  She'll  fear  you  do  not 
care  to  meet  her  lover  !  " 

"  I  do  not  care  to  meet  her  lover  until  he  has  consulted 
with  his  father.  I'll  take  our  brougham  and  go  on  to  the 
villa.  Hire  a  carriage  and  bring  the  young  ladies  after 
me  !  " 

Then  Lord  Lincoln  steps  into  the  carriage  in  an  absent- 
minded  way,  while  Arthur  says  "  Home  !  "  to  the  coach 
man,  and  goes  up  the  steps  thinking,  "  What's  come  over 
the  governor?  It  can't  be  overwork,  he  looked  hearty 
enough  when  I  met  him.  I  suppose  it's  Ethel.  I  always 
feared  it  would  break  the  old  boy's  heart  to  lose  her 
Egad,  ..  have  it  !"  at  length  he  mutters.  "Pater  is 
afraid  young  Errol  '11  want  his  wife  to  live  in  Australia 
Glad  the  old  gentleman  seemed  so  well  pleased  with  my 
matrimonial  plans,  however!"  Turning  over  these 
things  in  his  mind  the  young  man  has  walked  to  {he 
office  of  the  hotel  to  arrange  for  a  vehicle  to  take  his 
sister  and  Miss  Potter  to  Lord  Lincoln's  pretty  marine 
villa,  which  stands  about  a  mile  from  Folkestone  iust 
where  the  white  chalk  cliffs  descend  to  Sandgate 

While  giving  his  order  he  is  annoyed  by  the  American 
voice  and  English  accent  that  is  now  demanding  in  the 
next  room;  "  Lubbins,  a  toothpick  and  some  coffee-beans! 


J3*  MR.   POTTER   OF  TEXAS. 

Scoot  as  if  you  were  a  Mississippi  boat-race',  My  darter 
and  the  swells  '11  be  here  in  a  minute  !  " 

In  "  scooting  "  for  the  coffee-beans  Lubbins  chances  to 
pass  very  close  to  Arthur,  who,  being  of  a  rather  sensitive 
and  refined  nature,  elevates  his  aristocratic  nose  and  in 
quires  sotto  voce  :  "  Who  is  that  frightful  creature  with  his 
disgusting  manners  and  fearful  English  ?  " 

"  Don't  know,  your  honor,"  whispers  the  head  waiter, 
"  but  he's  very  liberal  with  his  tips,  and  'as  put  'is  name 
down  on  the  register,  sir,  last  entrte"  As  he  says  this, 
Lubbins,  with  an  obsequious  bow,  places  the  book  in 
question  under  Arthur's  nose. 

After  gazing  at  it  through  his  eye-glass  for  a  second, 
such  a  fearful  expression  of  anguish  contorts  the  young 
man's  face  that  Lubbins  drops  the  volume  and  says 
faintly,  "  Police  !  " 

And  the  Honorable  Arthur  Lincoln  in  a  kind  of  dazed 
nightmare  reels  out  of  the  house  and  gasps  with  a  kind 
of  hysterical  spasm,  an  indescribable  conglomeration  of 
groan  and  giggle  :  "  The  joke  of  the  century  !  Ha  ! 
ha  !  ha  !  My  Heaven  !  Despair  and  damnation  !  MY 

FUTURE  FATHER-IN-LAW  !  " 

For  he  has  seen  scrawled  all  over  half  a  page  of  the 
hotel  register : 


CHAPTER  XL 

HONOR    THY    FATHER. 

FOR  a  few  seconds  after  this  Arthur  Lincoln  stands  in 
a  sort  of  amazed  coma  ;  then  he  suddenly  mutters  :  "  No  ! 
No!  Impossible  !  "  darts  into  the  hotel  again,  and  gazes 


MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  133 

once  more  at  the  register  that  Lubbins  has  replaced  on 
the  office  counter.  Mr.  Potter's  chirography  is  as  hor 
ribly  distinct  as  when  it  first  met  his  vision. 

He  sinks  into  a  seat  and  faintly,  in  a  broken  kind  of 
voice,  asks  for  water  ;  then,  as  the  obsequious  Lubbins 
hands  him  the  glass,  gazing  at  him  in  deferential  and 
sympathetic  astonishment,  fiercely  demands  :  "  What  the 
devil  are  you  looking  at  ? "  in  such  a  ferocious  tone, 
that  the  servitor  addressed  instantly  remembers  he  has 
business  in  the  coffee-room,  and  disappears. 

After  sitting  down  a  moment  or  two,  Arthur  springs 
up  and  gets  out  of  the  hotel,  but  in  a  minute  returns,  a 
horrible  fascination  having  come  over  him,  to  inspect  the 
object  that  has  produced  such  a  peculiar  effect  upon  him. 

Muttering  to  himself  :  "  I'll  obey  her  injunction.  Fll 
see  her  father"  he  comes  into  the  hotel  in  a  kind  of 
sheepish  manner,  and  carefully  opening  the  coffee-room 
door,  glances  round  the  screen  that  is  placed  before  it — 
drawing  his  head  back  now  and  again  whenever  Mr. 
Potter,  who  is  dividing  his  attention  between  the  Morn 
ing  Times  and  his  lunch,  raises  his  eyes  so  as  to  make  it 
possible  for  him  to  see  his  observer. 

The  attitude  and  movements  of  the  Honorable  Arthur 
Lincoln  are  by  no  means  dignified,  his  dodging  motion 
behind  the  screen  being  very  much  like  that  of  a  cat 
when  on  the  lookout  for  dogs  round  the  corner. 

If  the  simile  of  the  cat  applies  to  Mr.  Arthur  Lincoln, 
the  analogy  of  the  dog  round  the  corner  may  equally  suit 
the  Honorable  Sampson  Potter  of  Texas.  He  is  what 
might  be  called  a  mastiff  and  skye-terrier  man  ;  that  is, 
one  with  the  courage  and  faithfulness  to  trust  of  the 
first-named  animal,  but  also  the  unremitting  wariness  and 
alert  watchfulness  of  the  latter.  At  present  the  mastiff 
is  eating  ;  the  skye-terrier  asleep. 

If  Arthur  Lincoln  has  had  a  vague  hope  that  Mr.  Pot 
ter's  elegance  of  appearance  will  contradict  the  peculiar 
uncouthness  of  his  diction,  one  glance  is  sufficient  to  de 
stroy  that  idea.  In  1882,  the  man  before  him  conveyed 
only  vulgar  barbarism  to  the  mind  of  his  English  be 
holder  ;  though,  had  Mr.  Potter  arrived  in  London  with 
Buffalo  Bill  -in  1887,  he  would  have  been  regarded  and 
worshiped  as  the  acme  of  wild  Western  elegance  and  re 
finement  by  the  British  public,  for  he  is  an  almost  perfect 


134 


MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 


picture  of  a  Texan  frontier  ranger  and  cattle-man.     His 
face,  which  is   clean  shaven,  save  a  long  mustache,  is 
seamed  with  the  wrinkles  of  hardship  and  the  scars  of 
encounters  with  both  wild  beasts  and  savage  men,  and 
has  the  peculiar  red  roughness   produced  by   habitual 
exposure  to  the  burning   sun  and  chilling  northers  of 
Texas.      His  forehead  would  be  that  of  a  trusting,  good 
natured  boy,  were  it  not  balanced  by  a  nose  of  great  size, 
power,  and  decision,  and  contradicted  by  lips  of  almost 
stern  firmness,  and  a  pair  of  eyes  which  have  that  clear 
steel-gray  tint  common  to  Brazilian  diamonds  of  the  first 
water  and  kindly  men  of  very  deadly  dispositions— eyes 
that  are  sometimes  mistaken  for  a  little  off  color  until 
the  time  of  danger  and  death,  when  they  beam  and  shine 
like  the  brilliants  of  Golconda.     Over  these  features  Mr. 
Potter  wears  a  jet-black  wig  that  is  not  ornamental,  it 
being  apparently  of  frontier  make,  as  it  has  hair  of  sev 
eral  degrees  of  coarseness  in  its  locks,  and   is  so  badly 
fashioned  or  carelessly  put  on,  that  it  allows  some  of  Pot 
ter's  own  straggling  brown  hair  to  show  beneath  it.     1  he 
reason  of  its  use  is  not  easily  apparent,  as  the  hair  it  is 
intended  to  hide  is  only  as  yet  slightly  grizzled. 

His  suit  of  black  broadcloth,  fashioned  in  Southwest 
ern  fashion,  seems  too  large  for  his  thin,  wiry  form,  for 
Potter  is  not  a  large  man  ;  though  Brick  Garvey,  one  of 
his  old  companions  in  the  pioneer  days  of  "  The  Lone 
Star  State,"  had   once  said  that  «  English  Potter     (his 
sobriquet  in  those  times)  "never   war   a  big   man  until 
he  war  fightin',  then  he  war  a  giant !"     Two  large  dia 
monds  ornament  his  shirt,  and  another  one  his  finger  ;  he 
also  wears  a  larg-e  California  quartz  abomination  of  a 
watch-chain,  with  one  little  gold  coin  dangling  from  it 
and  making  it  by  contrast  appear  even  more  clumsy  and 
massive  than  it  really  is.      A  new  necktie    white,  old- 
fashioned,  turn-down   collar,  and   high   cowhide   boots, 
most  elaborately  blackened  and  polished  from  toes  to 
tops    and  into  which  his  trousers  are  tucked,  proclaim 
that  Mr.  Potter  has  made  an  elaborate  toilet  upon  this 
gala  day,  when  after  four  years'  separation  he  will  meel 
the  daughter  for  whose  education  he  has  been  willing  to 
sacrifice  even  the  joy  of  that  daughter's  companionship 
and  the  pleasure  of  her  presence. 

Having  been  compelled  to  silence  for  the  last  eigm 


MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS.  135 

hours,  during  which  time  he  has  left  the  Cunarder  upon 
which  he  had  this  day  arrived  at  Liverpool,  and  run  across 
England  to  London,  and  from  thence  down  to  Folke 
stone,  Mr.  Potter  has  accumulated  a  great  amount  of 
compressed  conversation.  The  cattle-king's  kindly  ad 
vances  to  conversation  have  not  been  well  received  by 
the  traveling  British  public,  and  the  frontier  appearance 
and  jovial  prairie  manners  of  the  gentleman  from  Texas 
have  caused  one  rural  rector  to  refuse  indignantly  the 
offer  of  his  pocket-flask,  and  a  prim  spinster  of  severe 
mien  to  request  the  guard  "  on  no  account  to  permit  that 
red-faced  ruffian  to  travel  alone  in  the  same  compart 
ment  with  her."  Consequently  the  Honorable  Sampson 
has  had  no  one  to  talk  with.  He  is  now,  however,  making 
up  for  lost  time  on  Lubbins,  who  is  gazing  open-mouthed 
at  him  with  a  mixture  of  admiration  and  terror,  for  since 
Arthur's  extraordinary  actions  upon  seeing  his  name,  the 
head  waiter  is  certain  that  there  is  some  mystery  connected 
with  the  gentleman  eating  lunch  in  the  coffee-room. 

All  Mr.  Potter's  thoughts  being  on  his  daughter,  his 
conversation  is  naturally  upon  the  same  subject. 

"Look  'ere,"  he  says,  tapping  the  morning  edition  of 
the  Times,  which  lies  on  the  table  before  him.  "  '  Fash 
ionable  Intelligence.'  Do  you  see  ?  Marquis  de  Saint 
Germon,  Lady  Longueville,  and — by  jingo  ! — Miss  Hida 
Potter,  U  Hess.  That's  my  darter  sandwiched  in  be 
tween  a  duchess  and  a  potentate  !  How's  that  for  the 
Potter  family  ?" 

"Very  'igh,  your  honor,"  remarks  Lubbins.  who  wor^ 
ships  the  aristocracy  also,  and  is  now  beginning  to  re 
gard  the  man  upon  whom  he  is  waiting  as  a  kind  of 
swell  in  disguise. 

"  And  'ere  agin  !  "  remarks  the  Honorable  Sampson, 
with  a  flush  of  joy.  «  Look  at  this :  '  Movements  of 
Noted  Persons ' :  Lady  Saharah  Hannerley,  accompanied 
by  the  Honorable  Miss  Hethel  Lincoln,  Miss  Hida  Pot- 
ter,  the  beautiful  Hamerican  heiress,  the  Honorable 
Harthur  Lincoln,  B.  Sidney  Van  Cott,  and  Mr.  Charles 
Herrol,  arrived  in  Paris  from  Venice  yesterday.  Wonder 
which  of  these  chaps  his  following  my  darter  ?  Put  the 
gals  ahead,  the  boys  won't  be  far  behind — not  in  Texas  !  " 

"  I  think  the  Honorable  Mr.  Harthur  his  the  one  !  " 
says  Lubbins,  with  a  chuckle.  "  'E  was  halways  a-run- 


136  MR.   POTTER  OF   TEXAS. 

ning  hafter  her  when  your  young  lady  was  here  a-visiting 
his  family." 

"  You've  a  level  head,  Lubbins.  I've  caught  a  suspi 
cion  of  that  fact  in  my  darter's  letters.  What  kind  of  a 
chap  is  the  young  man,  anyway  ?"  says  Mr.  Potter,  with 
a  wink,  producing  a  packet  of  delicately  tinted  envelopes 
directed  in  a  beautiful  and  aristocratic  female  hand. 

But  Arthur  sees  and  hears  no  more  of  this.  He  has 
fled  from  the  horrible  desecration.  Had  he  stayed  to 
look  a  little  longer  he  would  have  seen  another  phase  in 
the  gentleman  he  has  been  studying.  After  a  few  more 
searching  questions  in  regard  to  the  character  of  the 
Honorable  Arthur,  to  which  Lubbins  replies,  giving  him  a 
rather  fair  reputation  for  liberality,  and  all  the  other  car 
dinal  virtues,  for  the  son  of  the  peer  has  been  quite  gen 
erous  in  his  tips,  which  is  the  only  standard  by  which 
head  waiters  judge  the  morals  and  dispositions  of  men, 
Mr.  Potter  rises,  looks  out  of  the  window,  and  says, 
suddenly  :  "  What's  the  damage  ? " 

"  Damage  ?  "  echoes  Lubbins,  not  understanding  this 
Americanism. 

«  Yes  -  how  much  do  I  owe  ?  That  'ere  boat  s  coming 
in  Hurry,  like  a  stampeded  mustang  !  My  darter 
mustn't  be  kept  waiting  for  her  daddy's  four-year-olc 

'1SThus  adjured,  the  waiter  bolts  for  the  bill,  while  Potter, 
sitting  down  to  wait  for  him,  gazes  abstractedly  at  the 
Times  that  still  lies  on  the  table  before  him.     Something 
in  one  of  the  advertising  columns  happens  to  catch  his 
eye,  and  the  next  instant   the   skye-terrier  in  him    has 
woke  up  and  is  reading  the  paper.     It  is  the  same  adver 
tisement  that  Sergeant  Brackett  had  sneered  at  half  an 
hour  before,  but  Mr.  Potter  reads  it  over  and  over  again 
so  keenly  and  eagerly  that  when  Lubbins  returns  with  his 
account,  he  abstractedly  produces  a  sovereign,  and  says 
"  Pay  yourself  !"  and  goes  on  reading,  speculating,  and 
making  notes  in  his  pocket-book,  interlarding  his  labors 
now  and  again  with  sundry  exclamations  such  as     Snakes 
and  tarantulas  !  "  «  Almighty  curious  r  «'  Chaw  me  up  ! 
«  This  is  an  eye-opener  !  "  and  other  kindred  Western  ex 
pressions  of  excited  astonishment.     Finally  he  cuts  out 
the  advertisement  from  the  Times,  and  takes  the  address 
of  the  advertiser,  which  is  H.  Cltrkson  Pcrtman,  Solid- 


MR.   POTTER  OF   TEXAS  137 

tor,  No.  33  Chancery  Lane,  W.  C,  London.  He  is  so 
engrossed  in  this  that  Lubbins,  after  bringing  back  a  pile 
of  silver  for  the  change  and  placing  it  in  front  of  him, 
returns  fifteen  minutes  after,  and,  finding  the  money  still 
untouched,  deftly  pockets  it,  thinking  Potter  the  most 
liberal  man  on  earth. 

Mr.  Arthur  Lincoln,  having  fled  from  the  hotel,  re 
marks  :  "  She  said  :  '  See  my  father  ! '  Great  heavens,  1 
have  seen  him  !  "  and  for  a  moment  has  a  wild  idea  of  bolt 
ing  to  China,  India,  or  any  other  place  as  far  as  possible 
from  the  paternal  Potter.  He  hurries  down  the  street  to 
ward  the  express  train  that  is  now  drawn  upon  the  pier 
awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  Boulogne  boat ;  his  eye  fol 
lows  the  pier  to  the  sea.  The  Channel  steamer  is  just  en 
tering  the  harbor  ;  his  imagination  pictures  the  lovely  be 
ing  who  has  won  his  heart ;  he  murmurs  :  "  She'd  reconcile 
me  to  any  father  in  the  world  !  "  and  then  gives  a  kind  of 
unhappy  chuckle  as  he  thinks:  "  The  Honorable  Samp 
son  Potter  of  Texas  will  be  a  very  bitter  pill  for  my  gov 
ernor  to  swallow!  "  But  for  all  that  no  more  joyously  ex 
pectant  face  and  wildly  beating  heart  has  ever  welcomed 
that  Channel  steamer  than  Arthur  Lincoln's  ;and  Heaven 
only  knows  what  joys,  and  loves,  and  agonies  have  burnt 
recollections  into  the  souls  of  men  and  women  of  that 
point  for  partings  and  for  meetings,  that  platform  for  good 
news  and  for  bad  news,  that  place  for  the  tearing  apart 
of  hearts,  and  the  welding  together  of  new  ties  and  affec 
tions,  that  station  on  the  highway  of  nations,  that  pier  at 
Folkestone,  England. 

The  deck  of  the  steamboat  is  crowded,  for  the  day  is 
sunny  as  summer,  and  the  sea  unusually  calm  for  the 
English  Channel ;  and,  while  waiting  for  the  first  rush  of 
hurrying  arrivals  to  pass  him,  Arthur  Lincoln  has  time  to 
put  two  ideas  firmly  in  his  head.  It  was  not  her  fear  of 
her  father's  refusing  an  alliance  with  him,  but  a  fear  that 
he  would  disdain  a  connection  with  her  father,  that  had 
made  Ida  tell  him  to  first  see  Mr.  Potter  before  she  would 
promise  to  be  his  wife.  Conscious  that  he  will  lose  her 
if  he  wounds  the  American  girl's  pride  in  the  least,  as  he 
squeezes  himself  across  the  gang- way  to  the  deck  of  the 
boat  the  young  lawyer  arranges  his  method  of  conduct 
ing  his  case  ;  which,  like  most  legal  expedients,  is  hardly 
fair  for  the  party  in  opposition. 


MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 

As  he  forces  his  way  on,  Sergeant  Brackett,  of  Scotland 
Yard,  is  alongside  of  him. 

The  crowd  have  mostly  landed,  and  Arthur  has  no 
trouble  in  finding  the  party  who  are  not  hurrying  to  the 
London  train,  as  they  intend  to  remain  in  Folkestone 
for  the  afternoon.  Hastily  greeting  his  sister,  he  says  : 
"  It's  all  right,  little  girl  1  "  which  makes  tears  of  hap 
piness  come  into  Ethel's  eyes,  and  causes  the  Austra 
lian  to  give  his  hand  such  a  clasp  that  he  knows  the 
convalescent  has  entirely  regained  his  strength, 
saying  to  Lady  Annerley  how  kind  she  has  been  to  take 
such  good  care  of  his  sister,  and  with  a  "  Helloa  Van 
Cott  my  boy  !  Bound  for  London,  eh  !  You  d  better 
hurry  and  catch  the  train  !  "  he  starts  for  Miss  Potter, 
who  is  in  the  rear  of  the  rest.  . 

Before  he  has  time  to  address  the  American  girl,  &the 
has  run  back  to  him,  and  mutters  anxiously  :  "  Papa  I 
He's  not  here— he  is  angry  ? " 

"  Not  at  all.     Only  too  tired  to  wait  for  the  boat, 
expects  you  all  at  the  villa !  "     Then  Arthur  speaks  to 
the  party  and  says :  "  I've  ordered  refreshments  at  the 
West  Cliff,  and  carriages  to  take  you  all  out  to  Channel 
View.     You  mustn't  refuse  me  !  " 

«  Of  course  not.  I'll  stay  with  you  a  week,  old  chap 
pie.  How  is  his  lordship  ?"  returns  Mr.  Van  Cott,  seiz 
ing  his  opportunity,  and  inviting  himself  with  a  jump. 

«  Quite  right,"  mutters  Arthur,  who  hasn't  intended  to 
ask  him,  but  is  in  too  much  of  a  hurry  to  discuss  the 
question.  Then  he  calls  out  :  "  Enrol,  you  know  the 
way,  take  'em  up  to  the  West  Cliff  ! " 

As  the  detective,  standing  near  the  party,  hears  the 
name  Errol,  he  steps  forward,  about  to  address  the  young 
man,  but,  after  seeing  his  face,  stops  somewhat  astonished 
and,  consulting  his  note-book,  turns  away  and  says  noth 
ing  But  his  eyes  never  leave  the  Australian,  and,  dur 
ing  the  next  few  hours,  though  Errol  does  not  know  it, 
Sergeant  Brackett,  of  Scotland  Yard,  is  never  very  far 

awav  from  him.  . 

Ethel's  turning  back  to  her  brother  has  left  Errol  alone. 
Lady  Annerley  has  taken  her  place  beside  the  Australian. 
Arthur  eager  to  get  a  word  apart  with  Ida  suddenly 
utters  ' «  Van  Cott,  you  take  care  of  Ethel,"  hands  his  sister 
over  to  the  red-eyed  youth,  and  is  beside  his  divinity. 


MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS.  139 

During  these  arrangements  Miss  Potter  has  stood,  as 
her  lover  thinks — for  he  has  gazed  at  her  several  times — a 
beautiful  statue  in  gray,  dashed  with  sea-green  and  white 
foam,  for  that  is  the  appearance  of  her  costume,  which  is 
some  poetic  creation  of  a  great  artist  in  Paris.  Though 
the  blushes  have  chased  one  another  over  her  face  in 
waves  of  varied  emotions,  and  her  eyes,  which  are  full  of 
anxious  expectancy,  have  given  him  several  veiled  glances, 
and  her  lips  have  trembled  and  once  or  twice  opened  as 
if  about  to  speak,  to  this  time  she  has  uttered  not  a 
word. 

Her  parasol  trembles  nervously  in  her  hand  as  he 
approaches  her,  and  she  says  :  "  My  father  !  He  isn't 
here  to  meet  me  also,  after  four  years  ?  Something  has 
happened  to  him  !  " 

"  I  imagine,"  returns  Arthur,  "  Mr.  Potter  has  mistaken 
the  time  of  the  boat's  arrival." 

"  Ah,  you  have  seen  him  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"Tell  me,  how  is  he?  How  did  he  look?  Well? 
Happy  ?  Joyous  as  I  shall  be  at  seeing  him  ? "  and  the 
girl  is  about  to  run  for  the  gangway. 

"  One  moment,"  says  Arthur,  detaining  her.  Then  he 
speaks  aloud  to  Van  Cott,  who  is  moving  off  with  Ethel, 
and  remarks  :  "  Miss  Potter  has  left  her  satchel  down 
in  the  cabin.  Don't  wait  for  us  ;  we'll  stay  and  find 
it!" 

Here  Miss  Potter  blushes,  and  Ethel  laughs  as  Van 
Cott  mutters  under  his  voice  to  her  :  "  By  Jove,  that's  a 
stunner  !  Ida  hasn't  been  off  the  deck  the  whole  trip  !  " 

He  hasn't  time  to  amplify  this  subject,  however,  for 
Ethel,  who  sees  Lady  Annerley  and  her  guiding  star  get 
ting  too  far  away  from  her,  now  cries  :  "  Come  on  ! 
Hurry,  or  we'll  miss  them  !  "  and  figuratively  drags  Mr. 
Van  Cott  off  with  her,  leaving  Arthur  and  Ida  alone,  to 
gether. 

"  I  think  we'll  be  able  to  find  your  satchel  in  about  five 
minutes,"  says  Mr.  Lincoln,  moving  toward  the  cabin 
entrance. 

"Probably  in  much  less  time,"  returns  Miss  Potter, 
dryly,  "  as  I  see  my  maid  carrying  it  off  the  boat  now," 
and  then  she  bursts  out:  "  How  could  you  place  me  in 
such  an  embarrassing  position  ?  Even  while  you  were 


140  MR.   POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 

talking  my  servant  was  flourishing  it  under  your  very 
nose.   Oh,  Arthur  !  "  This  last  is  a  reproach,  but  the  young 
man  looks  so  contrite  she  smiles  and  says:  "  You  would 
like  to  see  me  alone  ?" 
"  Very  much  !  " 

11  Then  I'll  steal  two  minutes  from  papa  for  you. 
There  were  only  two  people  in  the  saloon  the  whole  trip, 
and  they  were  seasick — probably  it's  empty  now,"  and 
she  leads  the  way  into  the  cabin,  but  as  he  follows  her 
down  the  companion-way  she  gives  him  a  look  over  her 
shoulder  that  makes  the  Honorable  Arthur  shiver,  and 
turning  around  upon  him,  says  with  haughty  dignity  : 
"  You  say  you  saw  my  father ;  did  he  accept  your  pro 
posal  for  his  daughter  ? " 

If  the  young  man  had  hesitated  he  would  have  lost 
her,  for  even  in  his  slight  pause  of  a  second  the  girl's 
eyes  are  beginning  to  blaze  and  her  breast  to  throb  with 
indignant  pride,  and  she  mutters:  "Why  don't  you  an 
swer?  You  despise- 
But  here  Arthur,  being  a  lawyer,  and  as  such  accus 
tomed  to  suppress  the  truth  or  disguise  it,  with  sudden 
inspiration  cries  :  "  No  !  your  father  did  not  refuse  me  !  " 
And  unable  to  control  himself  before  this  vision  of  pant 
ing  beauty,  mutters  :  "  You  said  the  man  who  kissed  you 
married  you,"  seizes  her  in  his  arms. 

There  is  a  crush  of  lace  and  silk  and  satin  and  gew 
gaws  as  Ida  Potter  in  one  kiss,  two  tears,  and  several 
blushes  becomes  his  betrothed. 

After  a  moment  she  draws  herself  from  him,  for  there  is 
a  noise  as  of  some  one's  entering  the  cabin,  and  looking 
up  into  his  face  with  a  trust  that  makes  him  ashamed 
of  his  ruse  says  :  "  Arthur,  what  did  papa  say  to  you  ? 
Tell  me  ! " 

"  Well !  "  returns  the  young  man,  dropping  his  eyes 
under  her  glance,  "  to  tell  the  ah — exact  truth,  he  said- 
nothing  !  " 

"  Nothing  ?  " 

"  No ;  the  fact  is,  I  didn't  get  a  chance  to  speak  to 
him." 

"  You  did  not  speak  to  him  ?  " 

"  I  couldn't,  I  wasn't  introduced  ! " 

"  Then  you  only  know  his  appearance,  you  don't  know 
his ^^peculiarities.  I  had  expected  in  this  interview  the 


MR.   POTTER  OF  TEXAS.  14 1 

troth  from  you  as  a  man,  and  you  have  given  me  the 
equivocation  of  a  lawyer!" 

Then  with  reproach  in  her  eyes,  but  great  dignity  and 
nobility  in  her  mien  she  continues:  "You  have  made  it 
necessary  for  the  woman  you  profess  to  love  to  endure  the 
humiliation  of  telling  you  with  her  own  lips  that  her  father 
is  a  man  of  but  little  education  and  what  you  and  your  class 
would  call  no  breeding  !  "  Here  her  voice  softens  and 
she  goes  on  :  "  My  father  is  a  good  man  !  Don't  mis 
take  me  in  this  ;  if  his  education  were  equal  to  his  heart 
he  might  be  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  and  do  honor  to 
the  See.  As  it  is  you  must  now  appreciate  that  he  is  not 
exactly  the  man  to  be  the  father  of  an  English  peeress, 
which  your  wife  must  one  day  be.  You — you  are  re 
leased  from  your  promise  of  marriage  to  me  !  "  and  turn 
ing  her  head  away  she  utters  in  a  broken  voice  :  "  Oh,  it 
was  a  great  mistake,  my — my  coming  to  England  and 
loving  you." 

The  young  man,  though  much  affected,  has  resolved 
with  legal  tact  to  let  her  make  her  speech,  reserving  the 
closing  argument  for  himself,  and  here  simply  suggests  : 
"  And  you  forgive  me  ? " 

"  Forgive  ?  I  have  nothing  to  forgive  ;  only  much  to 
regret !  "  murmurs  the  girl. 

"  You  regret  my  loving  you  ?  " 

"  I — I  regret  I  did  not  have  the  strength  to  tell  you 
of  the  barrier  that  society,  that  the  world  has  set  be 
tween  us.  At  times — I — I  have  tried  to  treat  you  coldly, 
but  it  was  too — too  hard  to  destroy  my  one  great  hope, 
and  I  hesitated  till — I — I  had  not  the  power.  But  now 
that  you  know  the  truth,  the  sooner  we  say  farewell 
the  better  !  Good-by,  Arthur  !  "  The  girl  turns  to  the 
young  man  whom  she  had  one  minute  before  called 
betrothed  and  had  hoped  to  call  husband,  and  tries  to 
bid  him  farewell,  holding  out  a  trembling  hand,  gasping 
because  she  sees  he  is  trembling  also  :  "  Don't  think  too 
unkindly  of  me,  because  I  couldn't  bear  to  tell  you  be 
fore  ! " 

She  is  staggering  from  him,  but  he  cries  after  her: 
"  Do  you  think  me  so  mean,  that  after  I  had  gone  on 
loving  you  for  yourself,  worshiping  you  for  yourself, 
holding  you  as  the  one  most  noble  woman  on  this  earth 
for  your  own  sake " 


142 


MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXA& 


She  has  turned  back  murmuring  :  "  Arthur  ! " 

He  pays  no  attention  but  talks  straight  at  her,  only 
with  more  enthusiasm,  for  he  has  the  beauty  of  her  face 
to  inspire  him.  "  That  because  of  any  accident  of  birth 
or  education  or  refinement  in  your  father,  I  could  ever 
forget  that  you  are  the  one  woman  in  all  this  world  that 
I  will  make  my  wife,  and  failing  to  gain  you— I  will  wed 
no  other  !  " 

"  Don't  speak  so,"  she  gasps.  "  You  only  make  the 
parting  harder ! " 

"  We  shall  not  part !  " 

"  Think  of  your  family—//^  will  never  consent." 

"My  father  already  loves  you — you  are  my  sister's 
dearest  friend." 

"  But  my  father  !  "  cries  Ida.  "  You  have  your  pride  of 
birth.  I  have  my  pride  also.  I  love,  I  honor  my  father  ! 
I  will  become  a  member  of  no  family  that  does  not 
honor  him  also  !  He  is  the  truest  man  upon  this  earth  ! " 
And,  fired  with  enthusiastic  love,  this  daughter  of  unedu 
cated  old  Potter  looks  like  a  princess  of  light,  as  her 
beautiful  eyes  flash  and  gleam  like  stars  of  truth  in  the 
gloom  of  the  cabin. 

Her  enthusiasm  is  catching,  for  her  lover  cries  also  : 
"  Then  I  know  my  father  is  man  enough  to  honor  him 
too  !  Miss  Potter,"  here  he  bows  to  her  with  the  cere 
mony  he  would  use  to  a  duchess,  "  my  father  to-morrow 
shall  ask  from  your  father  the  honor  of  an  alliance  with 
his  family.  Then,  Ida,  what  will  your  answer  be  ?  " 

The  girl  droops  and  trembles,  and  perhaps  for  a  moment 
fights  with  herself  ;  but  love  conquers,  and  seeing  this,  he 
would  take  her  in  his  arms  again,  but  she  stops  him  archly, 
saying :  "  Wait  for  my  answer  till  then  !  " 

"Must  I  wait  when  I  know  all  about  your  fathers 
peculiarities,  when  I  heard  him  talk  for  an  hour  before  I 
came  to  you  to  get  my  answer  ?  " 

"  With  my  father's  accent  in  your  ears,  you  ask  me 
to  be  your  wife  ?  You  may  kiss  me  at  once!"  cries  Miss 
Potter,  and  gives  him  so  loving,  true,  trusting  and  un 
affected  an  embrace  that  Arthur  would  have  lingered  over 
it  forever,  had  not  a  loud,  weather-beaten,  tarry  voice  on 
deck  yelled  :  "  All  ashore !  " 

So  the  two  run  up  the  companion  ladder  into  the  sun 
light,  and  on  to  the  gangway,  across  which  no  faire* 


MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  143 

happier,  more  lovely  creature  ever  tripped  between  boat 
and  shore  than  Ida  Potter.  Notwithstanding  Arthur's 
ardent  looks,  she  keeps  her  countenance  very  well,  till 
one  tar  standing  by  the  gangway  remarks  to  another: 
"  Look  at  her,  Bill !  Ain't  she  sweet  on  him  !  Blowed 
if  she  ain't  a  bride  !"  and  then — oh,  the  blushes  ! 


CHAPTER  XII. 

MR.    POTTER   ENTERS  SOCIETY. 

RECOVERING  from  the  embarrassment  caused  by  this 
remark  Miss  Potter  soon  nestles  quite  closely  to  the  ra 
diant  Arthur.  They  leave  the  railway  station,  and  turn 
ing  to  their  left  walk  up  one  of  the  streets  leading  to  the 
cliffs.  During  this  time  she  gives  him  a  number  of  confi 
dences  that  make  the  young  man  very  happy  as  they 
show  him  that  the  girl  at  his  side  regards  him  even  now  as 
a  member  of  her  family.  She  tells  him  that  her  mother, 
whom  she  never  saw  to  remember,  was  descended  from 
one  of  the  old  Virginia  families  who  had  taken  part  in 
the  first  settlement  of  Kentucky  in  the  days  of  Daniel 
Boone  ;  and  from  there  had,  lured  by  the  gold  excitement 
of  the  time,  attempted  to  emigrate  in  1850  to  California. 
Taking  the  Southern  route  by  way  of  Texas,  which  at 
that  day -was  the  home  and  favorite  hunting  ground  of 
the  Comanche,  the  train  with  which  they  traveled  had 
been  attacked  by  Indians  and  every  member  of  the  party 
killed  save  her  mother,  who  was  but  a  girl,  and  an  Eng 
lish  boy  of  fifteen  or  sixteen.  This  boy  had  saved  her 
mother's  life  in  so  gallant  a  way  that  it  had  made  him 
famed  for  courage  even  in  that  State,  where  desperate  en 
counters  and  deadly  combats  at  that  time  were  matters  of 
every-day  occurrence. 

Despite  any  difference  of  station  or  education,  her 
mother  had  loved  and  married  him,  and  her  means  had 
given  Mr.  Sampson  Potter  his  first  step  in  the  race  for 
wealth.  She  had  died  when  Ida  was  born,  in  the  dark 
days  of  the  Confederacy,  when  Potter  had  been  brought 
back  from  the  front  badly  wounded,  having  been  one  of 
the  leaders  in  probably  the  most  desperate  charge  evef 


144  MR.  POTTER  OF  TEXAS. 

made  in   the  war  by  Southern  troops,  /.  *.,  that  of  the 

Texans  at  the  battle  of  luka. 

Then  the  young  lady  says  enthusiastically  :  "  I  have 
but  two  near  relatives  in  the  world,  one  of  whom  you 
have  heard  Lady  Annerley  speak,  my  elder  brother, 
Houston,  who  is  a  lieutenant  in  the  American  navy  and 
who  headed  the  American  marines  that  saved  her  and 
Mr.  Errol  at  Alexandria  ;  a  young  gentleman  who  is  wild, 
reckless,  and  sometimes  rather  extravagant— at  least 
papa  says  so  when  he  condescends  to  draw  upon  him, 
which  is  quite  often  ;  but  whom  I  love  and  honor  be 
cause  every  one  says  he  is  an  ornament  to  his  service 
and  his  flag.  The  other  is  my  father,  whom  I  honor  and 
love  even  more  because  he  is  just  to  every  one  and  gen 
erous  to  every  one  save  himself  ;  because  in  a  State  where 
it  takes  a  truly  brave  man  to  always  dare  to  do  right,  my 
father  has  a  name  which  has  become  a  terror  to  the  law 
less  and  wicked.  As  a  ranger  he  defended  Texan  homes 
from  Indians  and  bandits  ;  as  a  Congressman  a  whole  rail 
road  couldn't  buy  him  ;  and  as  a  sheriff  he  never  allowed 
any  one  to  be  lynched— and  that's  saying  a  good  deal  in 
Texas  ! "  adds  Miss  Potter  so  naively  that  this  view  of 
Texan  justice  makes  the  English  lawyer  open  his  aston 
ished  eyes. 

After  a  moment  the  young  lady  continues :  "  Every 
one  says  that  I  get  my  face  and  my — well"  (giving  a 
pleasing  little  blush),  "  my  figure,  from  my  mother  ;  but 
I  think  my  heart  is  nearly  all  from  my  father,  who  nursed 
me  in  his  arms  and  was  father  and  mother  both  to  his 
little  orphan,  as  he  used  to  call  me." 

Any  further  eulogy  upon  the  absent  Potter  is  cut  short 
by  her  hearing  her  father's  voice  coming  from  the  open 
windows  of  the  coffee-room.  There  is  a  rustle  of  silk,  a 
flash  of  lace,  and  Ida  has  flown  from  Arthur's  side  up  the 
steps  into  the  hotel,  and  with  glad  cries,  happy  tears,  and 
tender  kisses,  this  goddess  of  fashion,  refinement,  and 
beauty  is  in  the  arms  of  the  weather-beaten,  wound- 
scarred  veteran  of  the  plains  and  taken  to  his  heart  that 
beats  only  for  her.  Description  would  desecrate  such  a 
meeting. 

Arthur  thinks  his  presence  would  desecrate  it  also,  and 
remains  in  the  street  ruminating  upon  his  prospective 
father-in-law.  His  meditations  are  short,  however,  for 


MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  145 

Lady  Annerley  and  Errol  approach  him  coming  from  the 
west,  having  apparently  got  past  the  hotel  by  some 
means.  He  looks  at  them  in  a  lazy  kind  of  way,  and 
suddenly  becoming  struck  with  an  idea,  mutters  :  "  By 
George  !  my  lady  looks  at  Errol  as  if  she  loved  him.  I'm 
glad  Ethel  isn't  here  to  see  her.  Strange  !  I  never  noticed 
it  before."  And  appears  surprised,  for  at  Venice  and 
during  their  journey  through  France,  Ida  and  Arthur  and 
Ethel  and  Charley  had  lived  their  own  selfish  lives  and 
loved  their  own  selfish  loves,  and  in  their  own  great  hap 
piness  utterly  failed  to  note  any  signs  of  distress  or  suffer 
ing  in  their  hostess,  who,  to  tell  the  truth,  has  concealed 
her  misery  by  her  pride  ;  though  at  times  in  the  night, 
alone  in  her  chamber,  she  has  had  some  awful  interviews 
with  herself. 

When  she  has  left  the  railway  she  has  led  Errol 
purposely  to  the  hotel  by  a  roundabout  way.  She  has 
something  to  say  to  him,  and  this  is  the  only  time  to  do 
it.  She  knows  that  this  is  the  last  moment  in  which  she 
can  do  her  duty  ;  if  she  does  not  speak  now  and  tell  him 
what  she  went  to  Egypt  to  confess  to  him,  she  can  never 
more  do  so  in  honor,  she  dare  nevermore  do  so  at  all. 
While  she  is  thinking  this  he  gives  her  an  opportunity 
to  make  her  peace  with  her  conscience  and  let  him  be 
happy. 

"Dear  Lady  Sarah,"  he  says,  <4 1  have  been  often 
wondering  how  I  could  best  show  my  gratitude  to  you  for 
the  kind  nursing  you  gave  me  which  saved  my  life  ! ' 

"  Don't  speak  of  gratitude,"  and  she  almost  sneers  at 
herself  ;  then  mutters  :  "  I  had  not  been  worthy  the  name 
of  woman  had  I  not  done  all  I  did  after  you  fought  so 
bravely,  so  nobly  to  save  me  in  Egypt  !  " 

Thus  the  two  get  talking  of  the  days  in  Alexandria  and 
recalling  the  Arab  boy,  and  Osman  the  dragoman,  and 
Constantine  Niccovie  the  Levantine,  and  she  forgets,  and 
for  a  short  time  is  happy ;  but  he  brings  her  bacl^  to 
reality  with  a  start,  for  he  suddenly  says  :  "  How  did  you 
first  meet  me?  I — I  think  I  remember  now  you ^ had 
something  to  say  to  me — something  of  importance  !  " 

And  then  she  has  a  spasm  of  conscience  and  is  about 
to  tell  him,  but  hears  Ethel's  voice  behind  them,  and  sees 
the  face  she  is  looking  at  turn  and  gaze  backward  and 
light  up  with  a  light  her  words  and  smile  could  never 

to 


14$  MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS, 

bring  to  it,  and  she  closes  her  lips  and  clinches  her  teeth 
for  fear  that  they  may  give  this  man  a  talisman  against 
the  evil  that  will  this  day  come  upon  him. 

She  is,  perhaps,  a  little  frightened,  for  what  he  says  to 
her  shows  that  Errol  has  begun  to  remember  Alexandria; 
but  all  the  same  she  will  fight  it  out  now. 

So  they  come  up  to  the  hotel,  she  trying  with  all  her 
might  to  entertain  him,  and  telling  him  that  she  is  re 
turning  that  evening  to  Boulogne,  where  she  will  stay 
at  the  Hdtel  des  Bains,  and  where  he  must  promise  to 
run  over  and  visit  her.  She  will  be  there  a  day  or  two 
before  returning  to  Paris. 

To  this  Errol  replies  that  he'll  come  over  if  his 
fiancee  '11  let  him  off,  and  so  puts  a  dagger  into  Lady  An- 
nerley's  heart. 

Her  lip  trembles,  but  she  contrives  to  mutter  :  "  It  '11 
be  only  for  a  day  ! "  and  turns  away  her  head,  to  look  at 
the  sea  he  thinks ;  but  it  is  to  keep  him  from  seeing 
her  tears.  A  moment  after  she  says  :  "  You'll  promise  to 
come  ?  To-morrow,  if  possible  ;  remember,  we  have  been 
such  good — friends  !  " 

"  But  Ethel " 

"  Ah,  you  are  always  thinking  of  her  now  \  "  Lady 
Annerley  can't  keep  the  bitterness  out  of  her  voice. 
Then  she  goes  on  :  "  I  sha'n't  have  time  to  bid  you  good 
bye  here  ;  and  it  will  only  take  you  a  few  hours." 

"All  right,  I'll  come  to-morrow,"  returns  Errol,  who 
fears  he  has  wounded  her  in  some  way,  and  has  a  great 
friendship  for  this  woman  who  has  done  so  much  for  him. 

"  You  will  ?      Promise  !  " 

"  Certainly  !  To-morrow,"  says  Errol,  "  or  any  other 
day  you  please.  Why  not  ?  Ethel,  thanks  to  you,  has 
the  whole  balance  of  my  life." 

"  Has  she  ?  "  thinks  Lady  Annerley.  "  I  wouldn't 
change  my  chances  for  hers,"  and  she  makes  herself  so 
affectionately  pleasing  and  brilliantly  cheerful,  bringing 
all  the  powers  of  her  fine  mind  and  cultured  manner  to 
bear  upon  the  Australian,  that  he  is  happy,  though  his 
sweetheart  is  walking  behind  him  with  young  Van  Cott ; 
and  Miss  Ethel  seeing  the  young  widow's  attentions  to 
her  idol  becomes  for  the  first  time  jealous. 

This  is  by  no  means  lessened  by  the  remarks  of  the  face 
tious  Van  Cott,  who,  being  very  savage  at  Arthur's  tak' 


MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS.  14? 

mg  Miss  Potter  away  from  him  "  just  when  she  was  be 
ginning  to  love  me,  by  Jove  !  "  is  determined  to  torment 
his  sister  by  all  the  powers  of  his  little  mind. 

"  Oh,  ain't  she  gone  on  him  !  "  he  whispers.  "  Look  ! 
there's  a  glance  for  you  !  I  never  knew  my  lady's  eyes 
were  so  beautiful  before.  She  treated  me  awful  ;  hope 
she'll  be  kinder  to  him.  By  George  !  This  last  affair  of 
the  widow's  beats  the  rest ;  don't  you  think  so,  Miss 
Ethel  ? " 

"  You  believe  she  loves  him  ? "  gasps  the  tormented 
one  with  such  a  piteous  expression  that  if  Van  Cott  had 
any  heart  he  would  relent. 

"  I  know  it.     Ton  honor,  I  know  it." 
"  Know  it  ?  "     Here  Ethel's  eyes  blaze. 
"  Y-as  !     I've  proof  of  it.     By  George,  do  you  suppose 
unless  Lady  Annerley  loved  him,  she  would  have  refused 
me  !  "  he  says  with  such  an  air  of  conviction,  that,  looking 
at  his  imposing  five  feet  two  of  figure  and  his   weeping 
eyes,  Miss  Ethel  bursts  out  into  a  laugh,  though  it  is  not 
a  very  happy  one.    Thus  Mr.  Van  Cott,  haying  sowed  the 
seed,  circumstances  coming  after  ripen  it  into  a  harvest. 
So  they  all  come  to  the  hotel,  and  Arthur  conducting 
them,  by  the  aid  of  Lubbins,  into  a  reception-room,  tells 
them  the  carriages  will  shortly  be  round  to  take  them  to 
his  father's  villa. 

But  the  waiting  is  not  altogether  pleasant,  for  Van 
Cott  suddenly  exclaims  :  "  Where's  Ida  ? "  and  this  fa 
miliarity  of  appellation  so  enrages  the  Honorable  Arthur 
that  he  stops  that  young  gentleman's  searching  for  her 
by  saying  sternly : 

"  Miss  Potter  is  with  her  father,  sir  ! " 
«  oh— ah— y-as.     With  the  awh— beefsteak  man.    I— 
awh—  beg  pardon  ;  mean  cattle-king  !  "  mutters  Van  Cott 
meekly,  and  after  a  moment  gets  out  of  the  room,  for 
Mr.  Lincoln's  eyes  have  grown  quite  savage. 

Errol  goes  out  also,  but  almost  immediately  returns 
from  the  office  with  a  message  in  his  hand  and  says  : 
"  Here's  luck  !  I  sha'n't  have  to  go  on  to  London.  My 
governor  telegraphs  me  he'll  be  here  on  the  afternoon 
train  to  meet  me,"  and  going  up  to  Ethel  makes  her  very 
happy  by  whispering  :  "  I  shall  bring  him  over  perhaps 
this  evening,  and  certainly  to-morrow  morning,  to  ask 
~our  father  for  you  in  style." 


14**  MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

Her  blush  is  the  only  answer  to  this,  but  Lady  Anner- 
ley  a  moment  after  says:  "  Don't  fail  to  bring  your  father 
to  see  me — you  know  where,  Charley,"  and  is  rewarded 
by  a  little  sigh  of  misery  from  her  young  rival,  who  has 
not  yet  learnt  self-control  in  suffering.  Seeing  this,  my 
lady  calls  Errol  "  Charley  "  very  often  this  afternoon,  and 
finds  it  a  very  effective  weapon  of  punishment  for  Miss 
Ethel  Lincoln. 

She  is,  however,  quite  anxious  to  know  the  exact  train 
upon  which  the  elder  Errol  will  arrive,  and  after  con 
sulting  time  tables  they  all  conclude  that  he  will  come  on 
the  6  p.  M.  This  will  give  her  an  hour  longer  in  Folke 
stone  without  any  chance  of  meeting  the  Australian's 
father,  for  though  very  anxious  to  know  the  effect  of  her 
cruelty,  she  cannot  bear  to  see  it.  How  to  obtain  this 
information  without  compromising  herself  is  now  a  prob 
lem  in  her  mind.  This  is  soon  solved,  however,  for  she 
notices  the  waiter.  Every  time  Lubbins  has  brought  in 
refreshments  his  bow  has  been  more  obsequious  to  her 
than  to  any  of  the  rest,  and  his  meek  eyes  have  sought 
hers  in  an  appealingly  humble  manner. 

"  What  does  the  man  want  of  me  ?  "  thinks  her  lady 
ship,  and  then  suddenly  remembers  him  and  imagines 
that  he  wishes  her  to  recognize  him.  Lubbins  is  hand 
ing  her  a  plate  of  cake  and  giving  a  more  cringing 
obeisance  than  usual,  and  catching  him  in  the  act  she 
says  :  "  I  have  seen  you  before  !  " 

"  Yes,  my  lady  !  " 

"  I  remember  you  !  *' 

"  Oh,  your  ladyship  !  " 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  " 

"  Ah,  Lady  Annerley — Lubbins ;  your  ex-butler,  Tobias 
Lubbins,  your  ladyship."  This  information  is  all  ac 
cented  by  bows,  smirks,  and  flourishes  of  his  napkin. 

"Ah,  of  course,  Lubbins,  you  were  at  my  town, 
house ! " 

"  No,  your  ladyship,  at  Brinksham,  your  Shropshire 
estate." 

"  Precisely,  so  I  thought.  I  require  an  English  butler 
at  my  hotel  in  Paris.  I  engage  you  ;  make  your  ar 
rangements,  and  report  to  me  at  Hotel  des  Bains^  Bou 
logne,  to-morrow." 

"But  the  proprietor  of  the  West  Cliff?" 


MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  149 

"  Arrange  the  matter  financially  with  him.  I  will  pay 
for  it  ;  I  want  you  !  " 

"  Perhaps  I'd  better  come  to-night,  your  ladyship  ?  " 
says  Lubbins,  who  knows  a  situation  in  Lady  Annerley's 
house  is  much  better  than  the  one  he  has  in  the  hotel. 

"To-morrow!  by  the  afternoon  boat  and  not  before! 
You  may  go  !  "  returns  Sarah  Annerley  in  a  tone  Lubbins 
has  heard  before  and  knows  what  it  means. 

"  Yes,  my  lady ! "  and  as  the  waiter  goes  out  of  the 
room  she  knows  that  the  problem  is  solved  ;  that  Lub 
bins,  who  has  eyes  in  his  head  and  uses  them,  and  ears 
in  his  head  and  uses  them,  and  keyholes  in  his  doors  and 
uses  them,  will  be  able,  properly  pumped,  to  give  her  all 
the  information  she  desires. 

But  she  has  no  time  for  further  thought,  for  Van  Cott 
comes  staggering  into  the  room,  and  after  two  or  three 
gulps,  and  being  patted  on  the  back,  as  the  creature  is 
black  in  the  face  with  laughter,  he  gasps  out  :  "  Oh 
Lud,  I've  seen  him  !  When  I  first  put  eyes  on  him,  oh 
gracious,  how  he  frightened  me  !  I  thought  I  had  a  re 
turn  of — of  those  awful—  Here  he  stammers  and 
blushes,  for  the  young  wretch  has  nearly  made  a  horrible 
confession  on  himself,  but  finally  gets  out  :  "  You  should 
see  him,  he's  a  sensation  !  " 

"  What  have  you  seen  ?  "  cries  everybody  in  the  room 
except  Arthur. 

"  Ida's  governor  !  Old  Potter,  the  cattle-king  !  He's 
something  you  see  on  the  stage  and  read  about  in  novels  ; 
he's  like  THIS  !  "  and  he  goes  off.  into  an  imitation  of  the 
absent  Potter  that  sends  all  but  Arthur,  who  scowls  at 
him  savagely,  into  a  shriek  of  laughter  ;  for  Van  Cott, 
like  most  persons  of  feeble  mind,  is  a  most  excellent 
mimic. 

Lady  Annerley  finally  says,  in  a  tone  of  unbelief  : 
"  You  must  exaggerate  !  "  and  Miss  Ethel  cries  :  "  Non 
sense,  the  idea !  The  father  of  Miss  Potter  must  be  a 
gentleman  !  " 

"  Well,  just  wait  till  you  see  him  !  "  mutters  little  Van 
Cott. 

But  here  an  awful  silence  comes  upon  them  all,  for 
Potter's  voice  is  heard  in  the  hall  saying  :  "  Lubbins, 
you  say  the  swells  are  in  this  har  room  ? "  and  the  next 
second  Lubbins,  who  has  been  surreptitiously  studying 


I5»  MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS. 

up  the  hotel  register,  pompously  announces  :  "  The 
Honorable  Sampson  Potter  of  Comanche  County,  Texas, 
U.  Hess,  and  daughter." 

Then  Ida  walks  quietly  in  and  introduces  her  father. 

Probably  Arthur's  love  for  the  girl  grows  double  as  he 
realizes  the  cruel  position  in  which  she  is  placed,  and 
notes  the  noble  manner  in  which  she  makes  almost  a 
triumph  for  herself  of  what  to  any  other  girl  in  the  world 
he  imagines  would  be  a  total  defeat. 

She  looks  lovingly  and  encouragingly  at  her  father, 
though  he  needs  no  encouragement,  for  old  Potter  is  no 
more  abashed  in  the  presence  of  title  than  he  would  be 
in  the  society  of  Lubbins  ;  every  one  in  the  world  to  him 
is  on  a  common  plane  save  his  daughter,  and  she  is  ahead 
of  everybody. 

He  greets  them  all  with  a  kindly  smile,  for  they  are  his 
daughter's  friends,  and  as  Miss  Potter,  with  a  blush  of 
love  and  affection,  and  perhaps  pride,  for  she  is  certainly 
proud  of  her  father,  says  :  "  Lady  Annerley,  Miss  Ethel 
Lincoln,  Mr.  Arthur  Lincoln,  Mr.  Errol,  Mr.  Van  Cott, 
permit  me  to  present  my  dear  father,"  the  old  man  takes 
up  the  strain  and  cries,  jovially  and  unaffectedly : 
"  Ladies  and  gents,  I  knows  you  hall  by  my  darter's 
letters  as  well  as  I  knows  my  own  brand  of  cattle — your 
'ands  !  "  Then  goes  about  shaking  and  bobbing  with  un 
affected  Western  grace. 

After  speaking  to  the  ladies  he  comes  straight  to 
Arthur,  and  the  young  man  can  tell  from  Potter's  man 
ner  that  he  knows  the  relation  he  wishes  to  assume  to  his 
daughter,  for  the  pressure  of  his  hand  is  kindly,  the  tone 
of  his  voice  cordial,  and  the  glance  of  his  blue  eyes 
friendly,  though  searching,  as  he  says  :  "  The  Honorable 
Arthur  Lincoln,  I  reckon  !  My  Ida  has  been  talking  you 
up  ! " 

Then  he  passes  on  to  Errol,  and  Lincoln  gradually 
grows  to  love  him,  for  he  is  so  good  and  so  unaffected 
in  his  rude  way  to  every  one  about  him. 

But  though  Potter  speaks  to  them  all  he  has  but  one 
being  really  in  his  thoughts.  Every  now  and  again 
Arthur  can  see  the  cold  gray  steel  in  his  eyes  glint  and 
glisten  as  he  looks  after  the  beautiful  figure  of  Miss  Pot 
ter,  who  is  now  radiant ;  as  if  he  feared  that  this  was  a 
dream  and  he  should  wake  up  on  the  cattle  range  and 


MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  151 

find  himself  in  Texas  and  the  daughter  of  his  heart  in 
far-off  Europe.  Noting  how  his  eyes  sparkle  with  affec 
tion  as  they  meet  those  of  his  daughter,  and  the  unaf 
fected  heartiness  of  his  manner,  the  young  man  reflects: 
"  The  Honorable  Sampson  Potter  of  Texas  may  make  a 
much  better  father-in-law  than  many  a  penurious  duke." 

The  Texan,  after  greeting  Arthur,  has  turned  to  Errol. 
He  looks  at  his  face  as  if  striving  to  call  back  something, 
then  says  :  "  Herrol,  your  face  seems  familiar  like.  Ever 
been  in  Texas  ?  " 

"  No,  I  am  an  Australian  !  " 

"  Ah  !  yes,  I  remember.  My  son  wrote  me  about  you 
from  Alexandria.  You're  the  young  chap  as  saved  the  life 
of  Lady  Hannerley's  thar.  I've  fit  greasers  and  Injuns  and 
grizzle  bars,  but  never  tackled  the  Arabesques  and  Moso- 
leums.  You  beat  me  thar  !  " 

At  this  little  Van  Cott  cannot  contain  himself,  and 
coming  up  to  Mr.  Potter,  cries,  imitating  his  accent  quite 
correctly  :  "  Them  is  my  sentiments !  Yes,  siree,  I'd 
'ave  liked  to  have  tackled  the  Mosoleums  myself  !  Your 
'and  !  "  and  seizes  Mr.  Potter,  who  returns  his  grasp  in  a 
manner  so  warmly  vigorous  that  the  young  gentleman 
gasps  for  breath,  and  his  eyes  nearly  start  from  his  head, 
as  he  says  faintly  :  "  Don't !  "  For,  presuming  upon  the 
cattle-king's  amiability,  Mr.  Van  Cott  is  beginning  to  play 
upon,  and  make  jokes  with  him,  as  the  little  cur  dog  in 
the  happy  family  sometimes  does  with  the  sleeping  lion's 
tail,  never  dreaming  that  some  day  the  king  of  beasts 
may  get  angry  and  roar,  which  will  frighten  the  cur  dog 
nearly  to  death. 

"Young  man,  Hi  likes  your  haccent.  Hits  got  the 
British  ring  to  it.  I  emigrated  from  Hengland  when  a 
little  shaver  myself  !  " 

Which  explains  to  several  of  them  his  peculiar  use  of 
the  letter  H.     They  all   but  Van  Cott  treat  him  very 
nicely,  Lady  Annerley  insisting  on  his  visiting  her  during 
the  next  few  days,  when  she  will  be  at  the  Hdteldes  Bains, 
Boulogne-sur-Mer, 
To  this  Mr.  Potter  says,  "Whar  !  " 
" Boulogne-sur-Mer •,  the  watering-place." 
"  Oh  !    ah !    yes !    I  reckon   I  understand  you,  Lady 
Saharah  !  Boulogne  summers  and  England  winters.     Quite 
right." 


15*  MR.   POTTER  OF  TEXAS. 

"  I  shall  be  delighted  to  see  you  !  "  says  her  ladyship, 
stifling  a  giggle  as  do  most  of  the  rest,  and  Miss  Ethel 
coming  to  him,  takes  his  arm,  and  smiling  into  the  old 
man's  face,  asks  him  to  tell  them  some  of  his  adventures 
on  the  plains.  Which  Mr.  Potter  does  with  a  gusto,  vim, 
and  appropriate  action,  taking  for  his  theme  the  early  days 
of  Texas  when  he  was  known  by  his  compatriots  as  "Eng 
lish  Potter,"  and  by  the  Indians  and  Mexicans  as  "the 
boy  with  no  ha'r  on  his  head."  And  so  they  pass  a  pleas 
ant  half  hour  till  Lady  Annerley  rises  to  go  and  says  she 
must  catch  the  Calais  boat  ;  for  having  fired  the  petard, 
this  great  English  lady  is  now  desperately  bent  on  run 
ning  away  from  the  explosion. 

"  You  are  going  ? "  says  Mr.  Potter.  "  I'll  see  your  lady 
ship  safe  to  Dover.  I've  got  a  leetle  matter  of  private 
business  and  one  my  darter  particularly  wants  me  to  do 
in  London  to-night,  so  I've  got  to  jump  the  train  myself." 

"  My  maid  is  with  me.    I  need  not  trouble  you  !  " 

"We  never  call  it  trouble  to  take  the  gals  about — not 
in  Texas  !  "  says  Mr.  Potter  gallantly.  "  Besides,  Ida 
thinks  it  important  I  get  a  new  wig — though  I  ought  to 
be  a  judge  of  the  article,  having  worn  one  from  boyhood 
up  ! " 

"  From  boyhood  ? "  yells  Van  Cott. 

"  I  was  scalped  by  Comanches  when  fifteen  and  have 
been  bald-headed  ever  since  ! "  remarks  Mr.  Potter 
proudly.  "  Like  to  see  my  head  ?  It's  a  curiosity  !  I'll 
show  it  to  you  hall  when  I  come  back  !  " 

With  this  he  leads  Arthur  to  the  coffee-room  and  re 
marks,  confidentially  :  "  Hi'm  coming  down  to  see  the 
peer  to-morrow  ! " 

"  The  peer  ? " 

"Yes,  your  daddy.  I've  heard  good  reports  of  you, 
sir.  You  may  'ave  'opes  !  " 

"  Thank  you,  sir !  "  says  Arthur  warmly,  and  gets  in 
reply  a  grasp  of  such  unaffected  vigor  that  he  almost  imi 
tates  Van  Cott  and  says  :  "  Don't  I  " 

The  two  come  out  together  on  to  the  hotel  steps,  where 
the  carriage  is  waiting,  her  ladyship  seated  in  it. 

Here  Mr.  Potter  takes  his  daughter  in  his  arms  and 
kisses  her  with  his  whole  heart,  and  which  she  blushingly 
returns,  unmindful  of  the  little  crowd  gathered  about  the 
West  Cliff.  For  somehow  Lubbins  has  spread  the  report 


MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS.  153 

of  a  distinguished  Indian  fighter  who  has  been  scalped 
being  in  the  hotel,  and  quite  a  concourse  of  waiters, 
stable  boys,  and  such  like  are  gazing  on  Potter  open- 
mouthed,  among  them  Sergeant  Brackett  of  Scotland 
Yard,  his  faithful  Snapper  by  his  side.  Apparently 
Snapper  admires  the  Texan  also,  for  he  runs  up  to  him 
and  licks  his  hand,  bounding  vivaciously  into  the  air  to 
do  it.  Then  Potter  makes  the  detective  very  proud,  for 
he  says  :  "  Hello  !  Darned  if  that  ain't  the  cutest  little 
brass-mounted  dog  I  ever  scratched  !  "  and  he  plays  with 
the  terrier  while  Lady  Annerley  motions  Errol  to  her 
from  Ethel's  side,  and  says  with  marked  emphasis  :  "You 
will  remember  your  promise,  Charley  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  Lady  Sarah  !  " 

And  her  ladyship  looking  at  Miss  Lincoln  observes 
with  pleasure  that  she  has  put  another  thorn  in  her  side, 
for  the  English  girl  is  thinking  :  "  A  promise — then  there 
is  something  between  the  man  I  love  and  this  fascinating 
woman,  something  in  which  I  have  no  part." 

Satisfied  with  her  work,  my  lady  next  calls  to  Lubbins  : 
"Remember,  you  will  report  to  me  to-morrow  by  the 
afternoon  boat !  " 

"  Yes,  your  ladyship  !  "  bows  Lubbins. 

And  Mr.  Potter,  getting  in  beside  her,  gives  the  whole 
party  a  kindly  adieu,  even  calling  Van  Cott  "  sonny"  an 
appellation  which  makes  the  little  cad  writhe,  for  one  of 
the  stable  boys  says  to  another :  "  Blest  if  he  ain't  his 
father  ! "  Then  the  carriage  drives  off,  leaving  Ethel, 
Ida,  Errol,  and  Mr.  Van  Cott  together  on  the  hotel  steps, 
and  Sergeant  Brackett  gazing  after  the  receding  Potter 
with  eyes  enlarged  by  admiration  and  interest,  for  he  has 
a  new  border  novel  in  his  hand  and  it  is  called  The 
Adventures  of  Sampson,  the  Scalper,  and  having  heard 
an  account  of  the  Texan  from  Lubbins,  he  thinks  it  Mr. 
Potter's  life. 

Shortly  before  they  get  to  the  railway,  Martin,  who  is 
riding  in  front  of  them,  suddenly  gives  a  yell,  and  Lady 
Annerley  looking  up  sees  Mr.  Potter  carefully  examining 
a  tremendous  Colt's  cavalry  revolver. 

"  What  do  you  carry  such  a  fearful  weapon  for  here  ?  " 
asks  her  ladyship  with  a  shudder,  for  she  hasn't  seen  a 
firearm  since  she  left  Egypt,  and  this  thing  reminds  her 
of  the  carnage  and  death  QL  that  awful  time. 


154  MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS. 

"  'Tain't  exactly  the  thing  for  a  ballroom,  but  it's  kind 
of  handy  traveling.  Thar  might  be  road-agents  about ! 
I  once  had  to  kill  three  of  them  in  a  sleeping-car  out 
West  one  night,  and  at  critical  moments  it's  vital  to  be 
sure  of  your  pistol !  "  remarks  Potter  philosophically,  re 
placing  the  weapon  with  extreme  care.  From  this  he 
goes  on  and  tells  Lady  Annerley  episodes  of  combats 
and  wild  life  till  they  get  to  Dover,  which  is  good  for 
Sarah  Annerley,  as  it  keeps  her  from  thinking,  a  thing 
that  she  takes  to  doing  wildly  when  on  the  boat  bound  for 
Calais,  and  would  repent  and  telegraph  but  for  her  mem 
ory  of  Ethel's  happiness.  But,  tortured  by  conscience, 
she  acts  so  strangely  that  Martin  thinks  her  mistress' 
case  the  worst  attack  of  seasickness  she  ever  saw. 

As  for  Mr.  Potter,  the  railway  to  London  that  evening 
being  free  from  road-agents,  he  gets  to  Charing-Cross 
Station,  dines  at  the  Langham  Hotel,  and  then  goes,  late 
as  it  is,  to  see  the  lawyer  whose  advertisement  he  has  read 
in  that  day's  Times. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE    RETURNED    AUSTRALIAN. 

POTTER  and  Lady  Annerley  having  gone,  Arthur 
naturally  orders  up  the  carnage  which  is  to  take  Ida, 
Ethel,  Van  Cott,  and  himself  to  his  father's  home  ;  for 
Errol  has  decided  to  remain  at  the  West  Cliff,  at  least 
until  the  arrival  of  his  father. 

While  the  carriage  is  coming  round  the  Australian 
looks  at  his  sweetheart  and  sees  something  in  her  face  he 
has  never  noticed  there  before.  He  walks  up  to  her,  and 
getting  her  away  from,  the  rest  of  the  party  in  one  of  the 
reception  rooms,  says  :  "  Ethel,  what's  the  matter  ?  You 
look  troubled." 

Now,  jealousy  is  a  secretive  passion  that  doesn't  like 
the  light  of  day,  and  Miss  Lincoln  promptly  prevaricates 
by  returning  :  "  Nothing  much  !  1 — I  was  only  thinking 
that  I  had  better  take  off  my  engagement  ring  and  keep 
it  where  papa  will  not  see  it.  He  has  always  had  so 
much  confidence  in  me  that  it  would  wound  him  deeply 
if  he  thought  I  had  pledged  my  hand  without  his  pre- 


MR.    POTTER  OF  TEXAS.  155 

rious  sanction ! "  and   as  she  says  this  she  gives  Mr. 

Errol  a  twinge  by  transferring  his  sparkling  diamonds 
from  her  finger  to  her  pocket. 

"  But  your  brother  said  he  had  spoken  to  your  father, 
and  it  was  all  right." 

Her  lover's  tone  is  so  sad  that  Miss  Ethel,  sorry  tot 
him,  returns  :  "  No  doubt  it  will  be,  if — if  ^  you^  don't  fall 
in  love  with  Lady  Annerley  in  the  mean  time." 

But  upon  this  last  her  voice,  trying  to  laugh,  falters, 
and  becomes  almost  a  cry. 
"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"Why,  you  are  going  to  visit  her  at  Boulogne." 
"  Certainly  ;  after  all  that  she  has  done  for  me  I  at 
least  owe  her  politeness.     Besides,  I've  promised  !  " 

"  Ah  !    that  was  the    promise  I   heard   her   mention. 
Charley,  don't  go  ;  it  was  wrong  of  her  to  ask  you,  know 
ing  that  to-morrow  should  be  devoted  to  your  formal  en 
gagement  to  me  !  "  cries  Ethel. 
"  But  I  owe  "her  so  much." 

"  And  she  owes  you  so  much  more.  How  close  such 
scenes  as  you  passed  through  must  have  brought  you  in 
Alexandria.  Oh  pshaw  !— don't  listen  to  me  ;— what  am  I 
talking  about  ?  "  mutters  the  girl,  checking  herself  and 
moving  away  from  him. 

But  he  walks  after  her,  and  turning  her  to  him  tries  to 
look  in  her  face,  and  says  rather  sternly  :  "  EtheJ,  you 
surely  do  not  fear  I  will  fall  in  love  with  Lady  Anner 
ley  ?  " 

"  She  is  a  young  widow,  and  that's  the  most  awful 
thing  on  earth,"  says  the  young  lady  quite  sullenly,  look 
ing  down  and  punching  with  her  parasol  the  end  of  a 
little  foot  that  is  pushed  from  under  her  dress,  and  beat 
ing  a  savage  tattoo  upon  the  floor. 

"  Why,  she's  old  enough " 

"  To  be  mistress  of  the  art  of  fascination  !  She  s 
twenty-five  ;  Cleopatra's  age !  How  you  stand  up  for 
her!"  cries  Miss  Ethel  pettishly,  forgetting  that  poor 
Errol  has  been  rather  decrying  Lady  Sarah's  charms  and 
she  likening  them  to  Cleopatra's. 

Here  the  young  gentleman  rather  astonishes  the  young 
lady,  for  he  says  :  "  My  own,  I  am  at  last  sure  that  you 
love  me  ;  for  the  first  time  I  see  you  jealous." 

The  surprises  are  not  all  on  one  side  of  the  affair,  how 


15$  MR.   POTTER  OF  TEXAS. 

ever.  For  now  she  astounds  him,  anger  begets  truth,  and 
Miss  Ethel's  temper  for  the  first  time  shows  itself  to 
Charley  Enrol.  She  tosses  company  manners  to  the 
winds  and  cries :  "  You  are  right  ;  I  am  jealous,  and  you 
are  wrong  to  make  me  so.  Think  how  she  strives  to  mo* 
nopolize  you  !  Think  how  she  calls  you  Charley  !  That 
is  my  right  only  ;  you  are  my  Charley.  What  would 
you  think  of  Miss  Potter  if  she  called  you  Charley  ? " 

"  You  see,  Lady  Annerley  got  into  the  habit  when  we 
were  righting  for  our  lives  in  Egypt,"  Errol  suggests 
rather  meekly. 

"  That's  what  makes  it  so  terrible,"  breaks  in  the  girl ; 
"  that's  what  frightens  me.  How  she  must  have  got  to 
love  you  when  you  fought  like  a  Paladin  of  old  to  save 
her  life  !  When  I  think  how  she  must  adore  you  I  trem 
ble  ! " 

"  Tremble  !  What  do  you  mean,  Ethel  ?  If  you  fear 
my  constancy  you  must  despise  me  !  "  and  with  this  Errol 
turns  away  from  her. 

But  he  does  not  get  far  when  his  sweetheart  is  round 
his  neck  sobbing:  "Despise  you?  Oh,  my  love,  don't 
quarrel  with  me !  Go  and  see  Lady  Sarah.  Of  course 
I  can  trust  you.  I  must  trust  you,  or  else  what  is  life 
worth  to  me  ?  " 

Charley  Errol  looks  into  her  blue  eyes,  in  which  before 
he  has  only  seen  laughter — the  tears  conquer  him  and  he 
mutters  :  "  If  I  were  to  visit  Lady  Sarah  now,  I'd  deserve 
to  be  despised— 

"  You — you  m — m — mean  it  ?  " 

"  Of  course,  you  have  my  word,"  and  he  kisses  her  for 
his  reward.  Here  she  breaks  from  him  and  runs  to  the 
door,  for  her  brother's  voice  is  heard  calling  her  from  the 
hall.  At  the  door  she  pauses,  laughs,  and  whispers  • 
"  Your  father  will  console  you.  Good-by,  my  Charley, 
till  to-morrow  !  "  and  blowing  a  kiss  to  him,  runs  out 
and  gets  into  the  carriage  alongside  of  Mr.  Van  Cott, 
who  is  moodily  glum,  for  he  sees  Miss  Potter  occu 
pying  the  front  seat  with  Arthur,  who  is  going  to  drive, 
and  hates  him  as  his  happy  rival  in  the  cattle-queen'y 
affections. 

As  they  roll  away  Errol  comes  running  out,  and  cries 
to  them  that  he'll  be  almost  sure  to  bring  his  father 
with  him  to  see  them  this  evening.  A  proposition  that 


MR.   POTTER    OF   TEXAS.  157 

gains  him  another  smile  from  the  lady  in  the  back  seat, 
who  looks  back  and  enjoys  the  sunshine  of  passion  after 
its  thunder-shower. 

The  road  toward  Sandgate,  along  which  they  drive,  gives 
them  a  series  of  magnificent  views  of  the  English  Channel, 
now  extraordinarily  quiet  under  the  autumn  breeze,  and 
bright  with  moving  sailing  vessels  and  dashing  steamers 
while  the  whole  scene  is  gilded  by  the  setting  sun. 

The  drive  is  only  slightly  over  the  mile,  and  Miss  Pot 
ter  and  Arthur  are  in  happy  conversation  as  they  turn  to 
go  into  the  lodge  gates,  that  mark  the  entrance  to  the 
pretty  gardens  that  surround  Lord  Lincoln's  marine 
villa,  most  appropriately  named  "  Channel  View." 

Upon  these  gates  is  seated  a  boy  of  about  twelve, 
clothed  in  characteristic  knickerbockers,  though  he  wears 
an  Eton  cap.  He  has  great,  frank  eyes,  light  flaxen 
hair,  and  is  a  washed-out  masculine  edition  of  Miss  Ethel. 

"  Why,  there's  Teddy  !  Stop,  Arthur  !  here's  Teddy  !  " 
cries  his  sister,  as  her  younger  brother,  the  Honorable 
Teddy  Lincoln,  comes  running  to  the  carriage. 

"  I've  been  waiting  for  you  an  hour,"  says  the  boy. 

"  Why,  Teddy,  you  never  did  that  before,"  says  Miss 
Ethel,  kissing  the  boy,  who  does  not  even  look  at  her. 
"  What  a  nice  child  !  " 

As  the  Honorable  Teddy  scans  the  party  in  the  car 
riage,  he  gives  them  all  a  sensation,  for  the  tears  of  un 
utterable  disappointment  are  in  his  eyes  as  he  says, 
brokenly  but  savagely :  "  Where's  Potter  the  Texan  ? 
I've  been  waiting  to  see  him  an  hour.  Crabbe,  our  but 
ler,  has  been  in  town  and  says  he's  a  curiosity  ! " 

A  silence  falls  upon  the  party,  broken  by  Arthur  trying 
to  turn  the  thing  off  as  a  joke,  and  saying  :  "  Well,  Teddy, 
here's  Mr.  Potter's  daughter,  you  know  her.  Won't  she 
do  as  well  ?  " 

"  Do  ?  How'll  she  do  ?  She  ain't  been  scalped,  has 
she  ?  "  cries  out  the  boy,  savagely  firing  a  stone  at  a  pass 
ing  cur. 

During  the  ride  up  the  avenue  Miss  Potter  says  noth 
ing,  but  there  is  a  low  giggling  from  Mr.  Van  Cott  in  the 
back  seat  that  makes  Arthur  whip  up  the  horses  to  drown 
his  noise,  though  he  would  much  sooner  have  turned  the 
lash  the  other  way. 

Two  minutes  after  this  they  are  all  at  home,  and  Ethel 


15*  MR.  POTTER  OF  TEXAS. 

in  the  library,  sobbing  on  her  father's  knee,  is  whi& 
paring  her  confidences  to  the  great  lawyer  about  "  her 
Charley,"  while  Arthur  is  waiting  outside  the  door  to 
prepare  the  governor  for  the  coming  of  the  paternal  Pot 
ter. 

Left  alone,  Errol's  eyes  follow  his  betrothed  till  she  is 
out  of  sight,  then  his  glance  naturally  turns  the  other 
way  to  look  for  his  father's  coming. 

He  thinks  he  will  go  down  and  meet  him,  and  actually 
moves  a  few  steps  in  that  direction  until,  reflecting  that 
there  are  a  good  many  trains  from  London  to  Folkestone 
and  he  may  have  to  wait  for  some  time  before  the  elder 
Errol  arrives,  and  even  then  miss  him  in  the  crowd,  he 
concludes  it  will  be  best  to  make  things  comfortable  for 
his  father's  reception  and  wait  for  him  quietly  at  the 
West  Cliff. 

Consequently  he  returns  to  the  hotel,  and  stepping 
past  Sergeant  Brackett,  who  had  become  restless  on  see 
ing  Errol  move,  but  is  now  apparently  deeply  interested 
again  in  the  adventures  of  Sampson  the  Scalper,  he  goes  to 
the  office,  engages  two  of  the  best  bedrooms  in  the  house, 
and  registering  his  father's  name  and  his  own,  orders 
dinner.  Then  the  young  man  makes  himself  comfort 
able  with  a  cigar  and  something  drinkable  before  the 
fire,  and  goes  into  a  state  of  somnolent  happiness ;  every 
now  and  then  waking  up  and  going  to  the  door  of  the 
hotel  whenever  he  hears  the  sound  of  wheels. 

His  father  has  been  always  very  dear  and  close  to  him 
as  a  boy,  and  since  he  has  grown  into  a  young  man  this 
feeling  has  still  existed  and  they  have  shared  confidences 
like  brothers,  as  it  would  be  good  if  more  sons  dared 
do  with  their  fathers  and  more  daughters  with  their 
mothers.  Pondering  on  this,  Mr.  Charley  does  not  go 
to  the  door  at  the  right  time,  and  as  he  sits  before 
the  fire,  a  pair  of  hands  are  clasped  over  his  eyes  and  a 
hearty,  honest,  manly  voice  says  :  "  Guess  who  it  is,  my 
lad  ! "  The  next  instant  Charley  Errol  has  sprung  up 
with  a  cry,  knocking  his  chair  over,  and  has  his  father  in 
his  arms. 

"  You're  all  right  ? "  asks  the  elder  Errol  after  the  first 
gush  of  greeting  is  over,  looking  at  his  son  rather 
anxiously.  "  No  trouble  from  your  wounds,  Charley  ?  " 

"  No  ;  sound  as  a  new  sovereign,"  and  Charley  does  a 


MR,   POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  159 

little  playful  athletics.  Then  he  remarks,  looking  at  his 
father  rather  critically  :  "And  you're  not  aged  by  a  min 
ute — the  same  dear  old  pater*  Do  you  know  at  one 
time  I  hardly  expected  to  see  your  face  again !  " 

"Yes,  I  know — I — I  would  have  come  to  you  after 
that,  but  I  received  the  news  of  your  wounds  by  letter, 
and  before  the  letter  came  a  cablegram  arrived  stating 
you  were  out  of  all  danger,"  replies  Ralph  Errol  very 
seriously,  and  then  says,  patting  his  son  on  the  shoulder 
quite  proudly  :  "  I'm  glad  to  know  my  son  did  his  duty 
in  that  awful  time  so  nobly.  The  Australian  papers 
made  quite  a  hero  of  you.  Lady  Annerley  whom  you 
saved  is,  I  believe,  the  daughter  of  a  gentleman  who  was 
at  one  period  of  my  life  very  kind  to  me.  People  say 
she  is  very  beautiful.  Is  she  the  lady  whom " 

Here  Charley  jumps  at  the  opening  he  has  been  long- 
ing  for,  and  fishing  out  a  photograph  of  Miss  Ethel's  face, 
with  which  that  young  lady  had  favored  him  in  Venice, 
pokes  it  under  his  father's  nose. 

^Humph!  What  is  that?"  says  the  old  gentleman, 
wiping  his  glasses. 

"  That  is  the  picture  of  the  girl  I  love  !  " 

"  Well,  if  I'm  to  look  at  the  picture  of  the  girl  you  love, 
you'd  better  ring  for  lights.  This  sunset  gives  her  eyes 
rather  an  unpleasant  cast." 

"  Governor,  you  always  did  delight  to  chaff  me,"  cries 
the  son  laughing,  but  at  the  same  time  instructing  Lub- 
bins  to  illuminate. 

This  being  done,  he  takes  the  opportunity  of  scrutiniz 
ing  his  father  as  that  gentleman  criticises  Miss  Ethel's 
picture,  and  is  quite  happy  to  see  the  old  gentleman 
looking  so  well.  For  Ralph  Errol  has  the  bearing  and 
culture  of  an  educated  gentleman,  and  is  very  much  a 
man  of  the  world,  considering  his  long  and  continuous 
residence  at  the  antipodes.  He  is  probably  ten  years 
older  than  Mr.  Potter,  and  is  slightly  bent  by  years,  being 
nearly  sixty,  and  has  the  same  jovial  manner  that  his  son 
remembers  when  last  he  saw  him  ;  though  he  notices  with 
concern  that  his  father's  eyes  have  a  restless,  uneasy  look, 
as  if  apprehensive  of  something  or  some  one  indefinite. 

He  has  no  time  to  note  anything  more  before  the  old 
gentleman  remarks  :  "  So  this  is  the  one  you  telegraphed 
about.  She  is  rather  pretty  I  " 


f6o  MR.   POTTER  OF  TEXAS. 

"  Rather  pretty  ?  "  retorts  the  son,  in  great  scorn, 
"  Rather  pretty  ?  Governor,  your  eyes  haven't  been  fail- 
ing  you  lately  ? " 

"  No,  they're  as  good  as  they  were  twenty  years  ago  ! " 
laughs  the  father,  and  then  he  adds  dryly,  inspecting  the 
picture  again  :  "  She  has  a  nice  nose  !  " 

"  A  nice  nose  ?  " 

"  Well,  hasnt  she  ?  "  says  Ralph  with  a  chuckle. 

"  She  has  a  nice  nose.  Nicer  than  any  nose  in  Aus 
tralia.  By  the  by,  how  is  Australia  ? " 

"  Oh,  about  the  same  as  usual.  Melbourne  is  a  little 
bigger  and  a  little  richer — but  I  haven't  had  anything  to 
eat  since  I  left  London  ! " 

"  I've  thought  of  that,"  says  the  young  man,  and  he 
rings  the  bell  and  orders  :  "  Dinner  at  once  ! " 

As  this  is  being  done,  the  elder  is  gazing  from  the 
window  at  his  native  land,  and  turns  to  his  son,  mutter 
ing  :  "  So  this  is  home.  Does  a  man  ever  forget  the 
place  of  his  birth  ?  To-morrow  I'll  run  over  to  see  the 
house  in  which  I  was  born.  Fourteen  hours  ago  I  landed 
and  had  England.  Now,  Charley,  I  have  you  and  Eng 
land  together  ! "  And  there  are  tears  in  his  eyes  as 
Ralph  Errol  sits  down  opposite  his  boy  and  looks  at  him 
lovingly  and  proudly.  After  a  moment  he  says,  as  if 
anxious  to  come  to  the  subject :  "  Charley,  who  is  the 
young  lady  ?  " 

"  The  future  Mrs.  Errol  ?  "  says  the  young  man,  as  if 
the  title  made  him  happy. 

"  I — I  hope  you  haven't  spoken  to  her,"  returns  his 
father,  hesitatingly. 

«  Oh,  yes,  I  have  !  " 

"  But  you  received  my  cable  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  but  had  already  asked  her  ! " 

"  I'm  sorry  for  that !  " 

"  And  why  ?  "  asks  the  son,  anxiously. 

"  Because — because  I  believe  in  taking  such  important 
steps  with  deliberation."  There  is  a  hesitation  that  is 
almost  embarrassment  in  the  father's  manner.  "  What  is 
her  name  ? " 

"  Why,  I  wrote  you  four  pages  about  her  ! " 

"  The  letter  must  have  passed  me  at  sea.  Your  tele 
gram  only  called  her  the  woman  you  loved.  Who  is 
she?" 


MR.   POTTER   OF    TEXAS.  l6l 

This  question  is  put  so  nervously  that  Charley  replies  : 
"  You  need  not  doubt  the  girl  of  my  choice.  Her  father 
is  now  Lord  Lincoln,  and  has  lately  been  retired  from 
his  position  on  the  bench." 

"  Judge  Lincoln  ?  "  This  with  a  gasp  of  astonishment. 
Then  the  father  asks  in  apparent  incredulity :  "  And 
he  permitted  his  daughter  to  accept  your  suit  ? " 

"  Certainly.     Why  not  ?    I  speak  to  him  to-morrow  !  " 

"  Oh,  you  haven't  yet  seen  him  ?  "  the  old  man  utters. 

"  No  ;  but  I  have  not  the  slightest  doubt  he  will  ac 
cept  me,  especially  when  he  sees  you  !  " 

"  You  must  not  speak  to  him  to-morrow  !  " 

"  And  why  not  ? " 

"  Because  I — I  came  over  here  to  get  some  business 
settled,  and  until  that  is  done  you  must  not  see  Judge 
Lincoln,"  returns  the  father,  getting  up  and  leaning  his 
head  over  the  mantel. 

His  tone  is  such  that  it  alarms  his  son,  and  he  cries  : 
"  Is  anything  wrong  in  money  matters  ?  Tell  me,  dear 
old  governor,  and  I'm  by  your  side  !  "  And  springing 
up  he  puts  his  arm  caressingly  over  his  father's  shoulder. 

"  No,  we  are  richer  than  ever  !  " 

"  Then  I  cannot  understand  you.  Explain  !  "  says 
Charley,  turning  away  with  a  little  anger  in  his  tone. 

But  the  old  man  mutters  doggedly  :  "  Let's  have  din 
ner.  We'll  talk  the  matter  over  to-morrow,"  and  ap 
parently  would  now  put  off  the  discussion. 

"  No  !  I'm  too  anxious  to  have  an  appetite.  Please 
explain  now  !  "  says  Charley,  attempting  a  laugh. 

"  I  cannot  explain  for  a  few  days — for  some  little 
time  ! " 

"  Father,  listen  to  me  !  "  cries  the  son,  coming  again 
to  his  side  and  speaking  eagerly  and  excitedly.  "  I  have 
given  my  word  to  ask  for  her  to-morrow.  Dear  old 
governor,  she'll  think  me  a  scoundrel !  " 

"  Still  you  must  not  speak  !  " 

"  But  father,  why  ?  If  you  are  in  trouble,  I  am  your 
son.  Tell  me  ;  surely  I  have  the  right  to  demand  your  rea 
son  when  you  ask  me  to  do  what  must  make  the  woman 
I  love  doubt  my  truth  to  her.  Tell  me,  dear  old  governor, 
your  reason  !  "  and  he  would  go  on  pleadingly. 

But  here  his  father  turns  his  face  to  him  and  says 
hoarsely :  "  I  will!"  and  his  face  is  such  a  one  that  the 

n 


j62  MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 

son  trembles  as  he  looks  at  it.  "  I  have  come  all  the  way 
from  Australia  to  tell  you— I— I—  Here  the  poor  old 
man  gasps  and  his  face  flushes  with  shame  and  is  con 
torted  with  woe. 

But  at  this  moment  they  are  interrupted  by  the  door 
opening,  and  looking  toward  the  noise  Charley  sees 
Sergeant  Brackett  walk  into  the  coffee-room,  that  has 
been  empty  to  this  moment,  and  place  his  dog  in  a 
corner,  as  if  to  put  the  little  creature  out  of  the  way  of 
danger. 

As  he  does  this  Ralph  Errol  is  muttering  to  himsell 
"  No  !     No  !     My  heavens  !     Tell  my  own  son— I  can't 
do  it !  "  and  sinking  into  a  chair,  is  beating  his  hands 
together  as  if  in  despair. 

Advancing  toward  the  two,  the  detective  with  a  dep 
recatory  bow  says  :  "  Beg  pardon,  gents.  You'll  excuse 
me  sir  but  I  was  directed  to  do  this  business  polite. 
One  of  you  is  Mr.  Ralph  Errol,  just  from  Australia. 
My  name  is  Brackett,  sergeant  at  Scotland  Yard  ! 

"  Scotland  Yard  !  "  This  is  a  cry,  and  Ralph,  pale  as  a 
ghost,  springs  up  and  gasps  :  "  You— you  come  to- 

"  Father  you  have  been  robbed  on  shipboard  I  sup 
pose,"  says  the  son.  "  I'll  attend  to  the  matter."  And 
then  seeing  his  father  staggering,  runs  to  him  and  says  : 
"  You  are  faint.  By  George  !  I  should  not.  have  let  you 
fast  so  long." 

But  Mr  Brackett  continues  in  a  dogged  sort  of  way  as 
if  he  didn't  half  like  the  job  :  "  I  have  a  warrant  and  in 
structions  from  the  Home  Office  to  arrest  Ralph  Errol  ! 

"  Arrest  my— my  father ! "  cries  Charley  ;  then  he  bursts 
out  and  laughs  :  "  You  are  crazy  !  He's  the  foremost 
man  in  Melbourne  !  " 

To  this  Mr.  Brackett  says  nothing,  but   is   producing 
a  document,  when  Ralph  is  between  the  officer  and  his 
son  begging,  pleading,  crying  :  "  Don't  tell  him! 
my  son  !     In  mercy,  don't  tell  HIM  !  " 

But  Brackett,  having  a  heart,  doesn  t  trust  himself  to 
look  at  him,  and  says  sharply :  "  As  a  returned  convict ! 

"  A  returned  convict!  "  shrieks  the  son.  "  My  father  ? 
Speak  !  Tell  him  he  lies  !  "  but  not  waiting  for  an  an- 
iwer  he  hisses  :  "  You  insulting  scoundrel !  ?  You  dare  to 

Bay  this  of  my  dear  old  governor  !     I'll 

And  would  do  even  more  than  he  threatens,  for  his 


MR.  POTTER  OF  TEXAS.  163 

arm  is  upraised  in  his  father's  cause,  when  that  father 
staggers  to  him,  and  takes  the  power  out  of  him  body  and 
soul  by  muttering  in  a  broken  voice  :  "  Stay  !  The  man 
only  does  his  duty  and— tells  you  what  I  have  never 
dared  to  tell  you,  that  your  father  is  a  ticket-of-leave- 
man  sentenced  to  transportation  for  life,  forbidden  to 
return  ^to  his  native  land  for  the  crime  of  burglary  and 
theft !  "  and  stands  trembling  and  wringing  his  hands 
and  bowing  his  head  before  his  son. 

With  these  words  the  world  seems  to  change  to 
Charley  Enrol,  and  no  more  be  the  bright  place  he  used 
to  think  it ;  but  looking  on  his  father's  face,  from  which 
a  pair  of  bloodshot  eyes  are  imploring  one  word  from 
him  to  help  him  bear  the  shame  and  agony  of  the  mo 
ment,  something  flies  into  the  son's  mind  and  he  gives 
his  father  hope  and  consolation,  for  he  cries  hoarsely  • 
"BUT  INNOCENT  !" 

"  You  believe  it !  Thank  God  !  "  and  Ralph  Errol  is 
sobbing  in  Charley's  arms. 

"  I  know  it,  dear  old  governor  !  Your  son,  who  knows 
and  loves  you,  couldn't  believe  you  a  thief !  "answers  the 
young  man. 

"  I  am  a  martyr  to  circumstantial  evidence,"  mutters 
the  father.  "  Other  men  have  said  this,  and  lied,  but  I 
say  it,  and  it's  the  living  truth,  as  I  hope  to  see  your 
mother  in  heaven  !  "  Then  looking  into  his  boy's  eyes, 
Ralph  Errol  once  more  stands  erect,  and  Sergeant 
Brackett,  who  has  drawn  back  a  little  from  the  interview, 
sees  rather  dimly — for  the  old  man's  awful  shame  has 
brought  the  tears  to  the  detective's  eyes — that  there  is 
from  now  on  no  shrinking  in  the  father's  look,  and  that 
his  only  fear  had  been  his  son  would  think  him  guilty. 

After  a  moment  the  elder  Errol  continues,  with  grave 
dignity,  speaking  straight  at  his  boy  as  if  he  knew  he  had 
little  time  to  lose,  for  Sergeant  Brackett  is  looking  un 
easily  at  his  watch  :  "  Several  times  in  my  life  I  have 
tried  to  tell  you,  but  it — it  was  too  humiliating  to  confess 
to  my  son  that  the  laws  of  my  country  had  made  me  an 
outcast  and  a  felon,  and  branded  me  the  convict  and 
the  thief." 

Here  the  son,  who  has  become  steadied  by  his  father's 
manner,  returns  :  "  But  something,  some  one  must  be  able 
to  prove  you  innocent !  " 


|64  MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 

"  Only  one  man  can,  and  I  came  over  to  find  him,  but 
now  shall  not  be  permitted,"  replies  Ralph  sadly.     "But 
he  has  never  been  seen  since  that  night  ;  he  may  have 
been  the  guilty  party  himself." 
"  His  name  ?  " 

"  Look  at  the  advertisements  in  the  London  Times 
since  1850  to  to-day,  also  in  those  of  the  New  York  Herald 
since  1860,  and  you  will  often  find  the  name  of  the  office 
boy  of  Jaffey  &  Stevens— Sammy  Potts  ! " 

"  Sammy  Potts !  that's  the  man  you  want  to  find. 
Sammy  Potts,  I'll  remember  that  !  "  mutters  the  son. 

But  here  Mr.  Brackett  stops  further  conversation  by 
saying  :  "  Beg  pardon,  gents,  but  the  night  boat  is  about 
to  leave  for  France.  You  can  see  my  warrant,"  and  shows 
them  a  document  bearing  her  majesty's  seal,  which  seems 
to  Charley  a  great  blur  save  the  words  :  Ralph  Errol— 
ticket-of-leave  man  No.  29,341. 

These  make  him  desperate,  for  they  bring  the  truth  to 
him,  and  burn  it  into  his  brain,  that  HE  is  A  CONVICT'S 
SON. 

"  Your  instructions  !  "  gasps  Ralph. 
"  Was  to  be  very  polite,"  returns  Brackett,  who  knows 
that  the  person  of  his  warrant  is,  though  a  felon,  a  man  of 
consideration  in  the  colonies,  "  but  to  see  you  left  Eng 
land  to-night." 

"  I  am  at  your  service,"  says  the  ex-convict ;  and  sup 
ported  by  Charley  he  staggers  out  of  the  hotel,  looking 
ten  years  older  than  when  he  entered  it  an  hour  ago. 
And  so  they  come  down  to  the  pier,  where  the  Channel 
steamboat  is  ready,  waiting  for  the  London  train. 

"You  are  coming  with  me?"  says  the  old  man  to  his 
son. 

"  No;  I  stay  here  to  prove  your  innocence.  You  were 
poor  when  convicted — we  are  rich  now,  and  I'll  buy  the 
truth  from  somebody  ! "  returns  Charley  Errol,  who  be 
comes  firmest  in  despair  ;  for  his  bearing  and  manner 
now  are  the  same  as  they  were  during  that  last  night  in 
Egypt.  Then  he  goes  on  to  the  detective  :  "  You  have 
five  minutes  yet !  Answer  my  questions  !  Wasn't  it  curi 
ous  the  Home  Office  should  know  so  immediately  of  my 
father's  arrival  ? " 

Mr.  Brackett  suggests  that  information  has  probably 
been  furnished. 


MR.    POTTER  OF   TEXAS.  t6j 

w  Ah  ! "  cries  the  young  man,  "  by  some  one  who  is 
afraid,  father,  of  your  being  here  ;  who  dare  not  let  you 
live  in  England.  Perhaps  the  thief  himself  /"  and  get 
ting  excited  with  this  idea  he  cries  to  Brackett :  "  You 
are  a  detective  to  prove  men  guilty  ;  help  me  to  prove 
one  innocent.  Here  are  your  expenses  !  Do  your  duty  ; 
then  find  and  report  to  me  who  lodged  the  information 
at  the  Home  Office  that  -drives  my  dear  injured  father 
again  out  of  England  !  " 

"  Where  shall  I  report  to  you  ? "  asks  Brackett  eagerly, 
for  he  has  filled  the  detective's  hands  with  gold. 
"  Here  at  the  West  Cliff  Hotel  to-morrow." 
"  All  right ;  but  we  must  get  on  board  !  " 
And  Charley  supporting  Ralph  to  the  steamer,  which 
is  now  receiving  its  crowd  from  the  train,  the  old  man 
whispers :  u  Oh,  my  boy,  if  I  could  have  seen  my  birth* 
place  ;  but  when  I  pass  that  gangway  I  leave  my  country 
forever — and  you — my  disgrace  falls  on  you  !  " 

Then  his  son  feels  a  tear-drop  on  his  face  that  makes 
him  desperate.  He  returns  :  "  Father,  you  shall  con?e 
back  to  England,  no  more  a  ticket-of-leave  man,  but 
honored  and  respected  by  the  world  who  drove  you  from 
it !  I  swear  it!"  Next  he  says  hurriedly,  for  Brackett  is 
pressing  them  over  the  gangway  :  "  Who  can  give  me  the 
details  of  your  trial  ?  " 

"  It  was  over  thirty  years  ago.     My  lawyer  is  dead." 
"  Then  to  what  living  man  who  is  just  and  knows  can 
I  apply?" 

<k  To  the  judge  who  tried  and  sentenced  me  !  " 
"  His  name  ? "  cries  out  the  son,  for  the  crowd  has 
forced  him  from  his  father  and  back  upon  the  pier,  but 
Ralph  Errol  hesitates  and  does  not  answer. 

"  His  name?  " shrieks  out  the  son,  desperately  ;  for  the 
gang-plank  is  taken  up,  the  signal  bell  is  ringing,  and 
the  boat  is  steaming  away  into  the  night  for  France  ;  then 
out  of  the  darkness,  floating  upon  the  sad  splash  of  the 
sea,  comes  his  father's  voice  and  strikes  him  with  despair 
for  it  answers  :  "  PERCY  LINCOLN  ! !  " 

And  the  young  man  cries  :  "  My  God,  HER  FATHER  " 
How  shall  I  tell  HER?  ' 


BOOK  .III. 
A  WOMAN'S  BATTLE, 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

ALL    FOR    MY    DARTER  I 

MR.  POTTER  arrives  at  the  solicitor's  office,  m  London, 
at  nearly  nine  o'clock  that  night,  and  naturally  finds  Mr. 
Portman  hasn't  been  there  for  several  hours.  He  then 
obtains  the  address  of  his  residence  from  the  directory, 
and  is  driven  to  his  house,  some  miles  away  in  Pimlico. 
This  takes  considerably  more  than  an  hour,  and  arriving 
there  at  almost  IIP.  M.,  lie  has  some  trouble  in  arousing 
the  housekeeper,  who  comes  to  the  door  in  dishabille 
and  a  bad  temper. 

"  I  want  to  see  H.  Clarkson  Portman,"  says  Potter. 

"It  must  be  important  business,  waking  a  body  up 
at  this  time  of  night  !  "  remarks  the  woman,  regarding 
the  American  with  rather  suspicious  eyes. 

«It  is — there's  a  thousand  pounds  in  it."  And  he 
shows  her  the  advertisement,  which  he  has  cut  out  of  the 
Times. 

"Well,  you'll  not  see  Mr.  Portman  till  to-morrow  night; 
he  was  just  called  by  telegram  to  Boulogne,  and  left 
twenty  minutes  ago." 

"  All  right !  I'll  leave  a  letter  for  Portman  !  "  says  Pot 
ter,  and  coming  into  the  house  he  tells  her  to  give  him  the 
"  fixins  "  for  a  note.  This  being  done  after  some  little 
grumbling  by  the  woman,  he  writes  a  laconic  letter  of 
three  words  to  the  solicitor,  and  giving  it  to  the  house 
keeper  goes  out  upon  the  door-step  and  says  : 

"  Tell  Portman  I'll  call  on  him  when  I  return  to  Lon- 


MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  l6| 

don  In  a  few  days  !  "  With  that  he  shouts  to  the  driver, 
"  Langham  Hotel  like  Jerusalem  !  "  and  so  drives  away, 
the  woman  calling  after  him  that  her  master  may  not  be 
back  till  the  day  after  the  morrow. 

Returned  to  the  Langham,  Potter  meets  his  old  Texas 
friend,  Colonel  Cottontree,  and  the  two  have  a  confiden 
tial  chat  in  the  American  corner  of  the  smoking-room, 
chiefly  discussing  the  new  acquaintances  Potter  has  made 
during  the  day  at  Folkestone  ;  Cottontree,  who  knows 
nearly  everybody  in  the  swim  of  European  society,  or 
American  also,  for  that  matter,  informing  him- incidentally 
that  Lady  Annerley  is  the  daughter  of  the  great  London 
banker,  Sir  Jonas  Stevens. 

Whereupon  Potter  breaks  out  into  exclamations  of 
surprise  and  joy,  declaring  that  this  same  Jonas  Stevens 
once  did  him  the  best  turn  in  his  life,  and  that  he's  going 
over  the  next  day  to  Boulogne  to  thank  her  ladyship  for 
her  father's  kindness  to  a  poor  English  boy. 

After  that  the  conversation  drifts  over  to  the  Lincolns, 
the  colonel  telling  the  Honorable  Sampsoathat  though  he 
knows  Miss  Potter  is  too.  good  for  any  one  but  an  angel, 
still,  for  all  that,  she  mustn't  wait  till  she  goes  to  heaven  to 
wed  one.  That  Arthur  Lincoln  is  now  a  rising  barrister, 
and  at  his  father's  death  will  doubtless  be  a  lord. 

"  That's  better  than  a  duke,"  answers  Potter.  "  Thar 
was  two  dukes  running  arter  her,  anc.  t  was  scared  she  get 
sweet  on  one  of  them.  I  can  stand  a  lord,  but  hang  me 
if  I  don't  draw  the  line  at  dukes  and  dudes ;  I've  read  so 
much  about  'em  in  the  Texas  newspapers  that  I'm  cursed 
if  I  don't  hate  'em  both.  This  whisky  here,  Cottontree, 
don't  seem  to  be  up  to  the  strength  of  our  old  Kentucky 
bourbon ! " 

To  this  the  colonel  laughingly  assents,  and  the  two 
go  to  bed,  but  early  the  next  morning  take  the  train  for 
Folkestone  and  Dover,  Cottontree  being  bound  for  Paris, 
which  is  for  the  present  his  home.  At  Folkestone,  Potter 
says  adieu  to  the  colonel  and  engaging  a  chaise,  drives 
over  to  "  Channel  View,"  stopping  en  route  at  the  West 
Cliff,  and  going  in  to  get  a  light  for  his  cigar. 

The  morning  is  a  beautiful  one,  and  at  the  lodge 
gates  Potter  thinks  he'll  enjoy  a  walk  up  the  avenue 
leading  to  the  villa.  He  gets  out  of  the  conveyance, 
and  telling  the  driver  to  come  back  for  him  in  a  couple 


l6S  MR.    POTTER  OF   TEXAS. 

of  hours,  valise  in  hand  tramps  up  to  Lord  Lincoln's 
doors. 

His  progress  up  the  avenue,  however,  is  by  no  means 
unnoticed  or  unattended.  The  Honorable  Teddy  has 
heard  that  Potter,  the  scalped,  is  to  arrive  that  morning, 
and,  together  with  most  of  the  children  of  the  neighbor 
hood,  has  been  awaiting  the  coming  of  the  curiosity. 

Preceded  by  a  white-headed  urchin,  a  semi-idiot,  whc 
is  nicknamed  the  "  Cow  Face,"  from  his  resemblance  to 
that  animal,  they  all  follow  Mr.  Potter  in  a  solemn,  open- 
eyed,  staring  procession. 

At  first  they  keep  at  a  respectful  distance  trom  this 
bloodthirsty  warrior  of  the  plains,  of  whom  Teddy  has 
told  them  stories  of  his  terrible  ferocity  that  have  made 
their  young  blood  run  cold  in  their  veins.  But  curiosity 
getting  the  better  of  fear,  the  nearer  they  come  to  the 
house  the  closer  they  approach  Mr.  Potter. 

At  first  the  Honorable  Sampson  does  not  notice  them, 
for  their  steps  are  cautious,  and  they  would  not  for  the 
world  do  anything  to  anger  or  enrage  him,  considering 
under  these  circumstances  he  would  not  permit  them  to 
live  a  minute.  But  at  last  the  "Cow  Face,"  noticing  the 
monster  is  absent-minded,  rashly  actually  imitates,  be 
hind  Mr.  Potter's  back,  the  operation  of  scalping  as  he 
imagines  it  would  be  performed,  which  so  excites  his 
companions'  risibles  that  they  can't  help  tittering  and 
giggling,  though  they  know  this  places  them  in  mortal 
danger. 

Mr.  Potter,  however,  thinking  of  his  daughter,  goes 
along  very  peacefully  until,  hearing  one  of  these  giggles 
more  pronounced  than  the  rest,  he  suddenly  turns  round 
and  catches  the  "  Cow  Face  "  in  the  act. 

"  Run  for  your  lives  !  "  shrieks  the  Honorable  Teddy, 
and  so  they  all  do  except  the  "  Cow  Face  "  who  is  nearest 
to  Potter,  and  too  frightened  to  move  his  limbs. 

"  What  do  you  want,  little  boy  ? "  says  Mr.  Potter, 
pleasantly. 

"  I — I — I  didn't  mean  anything — I — please " 

"  Well,  don't — don't  get  skeared.  What  can  I  do  for 
you  ?  "  repeats  the  Honorable  Sampson,  seeing  the  child 
is  very  pale  and  trembling. 

"  I — I  wanted  to  see  your  hat  off,"  gasps  the  boy  des 
perately,  but  picking  up  a  little  courage,  for  the  ogre  has 


MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS.  169 

not  yet  killed  him.  "  Teddy  Lincoln  said  you'd  been 
scalped  and  was  a  curiosity." 

"Wall,  now,  I  declar,"  says  Mr.  Potter,  "  if  this  scalp 
ing  business  don't  make  me  celebrated  most  every 
where  !  "  Then  he  takes  off  his  hat  and  his  wig  too,  and 
shows  the  astonished  rustic  a  sight  that  makes  the  boy 
have  awful  dreams  for  a  week,  after  which  he  gives  him 
half  a  crown  and  tells  him  to  buy  some  candy.  This 
being  watched  from  places  of  distant  safety  by  Teddy 
and  the  rest,  the  "  Cow  Face  "  is  the  hero  of  the  juveniles 
of  the  neighborhood,  and  shines  with  Mr.  Potter's  re 
flected  light  for  many  a  day. 

Without  further  adventure  the  American  reaches  the 
steps  leading  to  the  villa,  where  his  beautiful  daughter 
comes  down  to  him  with  a  rush,  and  gives  him  several 
tender  kisses  despite  the  presence  of  two  magnificent 
flunkies  who  are  hurrying  after  her,  and  the  Honor 
able  Arthur  who  makes  a  background.  The  next  in 
stant  the  flunkies  have  despoiled  Mr.  Potter  of  his  valise 
and  overcoat,  and  Arthur  is  asking  him  if  he  has  break 
fasted,  and  being  answered  affirmatively,  suggests  that 
he  shall  take  him  into  the  library  and  introduce  him  to 
Lord  Lincoln,  Miss  Ethel  being  with  some  friends  in  the 
conservatories. 

After  a  few  moments'  conversation  with  his  daughter, 
Mr.  Potter  says  to  Arthur :  "  All  right ;  I'll  tackle  the 
peer  now  !  "  Then  whispers  to  Ida  :  "  What  are  you 
looking  nervous  about  ?  I  ain't  skeered  of  a  lord  no  more 
than  I  am  of  an  Injun,"  and  30  is  shown  into  the  library. 

The  nervousness  is  all  on  the  part  of  Lord  Lincoln,  who 
awaits  Mr.  Potter's  coming  with  awe.  His  son  has  told 
him  of  the  eccentricities  of  the  American  ;  in  fact,  Arthur, 
with  the  instinct  of  a  lawyer,  has  drawn  his  future  father- 
in-law's  picture  with  the  tact  of  a  diplomatist.  In  his 
description,  Mr.  Potter's  extraordinary  idiom,  rude  man« 
ners,  and  barbarous  gaucheries  are  all  eccentricities  pe 
culiar  to  the  Wild  West ;  eccentricities,  nothing  more. 

Suspecting  some  such  thing,  Miss  Potter  has  had  an 
interview  with  Lord  Lincoln  herself  that  morning,  and 
told  him  in  an  unaffected  but  by  no  means  self-assertive 
manner  the  fair,  square,  plain,  unvarnished  truth  about 
her  father ;  neither  disguising  his  failings  nor  extolling 
his  virtues,  and  ending  by  saying  .  "  Like  many  more 


170  MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

in  our  country  of  great  social  surprises,  my  father  has 
given  up  his  chance  in  life  for  the  good  of  his  children. 
That  I  may  wear  the  dresses  of  a  duchess  and  ride  in 
my  liveried  carriage,  he  has  driven  cattle  on  the  plains, 
and  has  exposed  his  life  to  all  the  dangers  of  a  semi- 
barbarous  existence.  My  happiness  has  been  his  happi 
ness  and  his  pride  shall  be  my  pride,  and  though  I  love 
your  son  very  deeply,  I'll  enter  no  family  who  does  not  re 
spect  him  as  if  he  were  the  first  gentleman  in  England  !  " 

"  And  so  they  shall,  my  dear  !  "  returns  Lord  Lincoln, 
wiping  a  tear  out  of  his  eye.  "  For  no  one  could  be  the 
father  of  such  a  girl  and  not  be  a  good  man." 

"  You — you  are  very  kind  !  "  murmurs  Miss  Potter, 
and  his  lordship's  tears  taking  all  the  pride  out  of  her, 
she  goes  up  to  the  old  gentleman  and  gives  him  a  very 
sweet  kiss  that  she  had  intended  for  her  father,  and  so 
leaves  the  ex-judge  with  a  much  better  appreciation  of 
what  the  Honorable  Sampson  really  is  than  his  son  had 
given  him. 

But  though  prepared  in  a  manner  for  the  Texan's  ap 
pearance,  Lord  Lincoln  cannot  restrain  a  shiver  as  he 
hears  Mr.  Potter's  voice  in  the  hall  and  mutters  to  him 
self  :  "  Good  heavens  !  The  awful  man  at  the  hotel  !  " 

However  he  hasn't  much  time  for  reflection,  for  Mr. 
Potter  enters  the  room,  and  in  the  enthusiasm  of  the 
moment,  not  waiting  for  Arthur  to  introduce  him,  seizes 
his  lordship's  hand  exclaiming  :  "  Peer,  how  are  you  ? " 

"Peer?"  gasps  the  nobleman  astonished,  for  he  has 
never  been  so  addressed  before, 

"•  Yes.  that's  what  you're  called,  ain't  it?  Peer  of  the 
realm  ?  I  used  peer  because  we  11  probably  be  connected 
and  I  thought  it  would  be  more  social/'  Then  the 
Texan  addresses  the  son  and  says :  "  Harthur,  I  would 
'ave  knowed  Peer  was  your  daddy  anywhar." 

For  Mr.  Potter's  use  of  the  letter  H  when  excited  is 
awful ;  in  quieter  moments  he  is  more  conservative. 

"Won't  you  be  seated?"  says  Lord  Lincoln  rather 
awkwardly,  for  his  senses  have  nearly  left  him  under  Mr. 
Potter's  attentions. 

"  Certainly  !  Anything  to  accommodate  !  "  and  the 
American  helps  himself  to  an  arm-chair  and  says,  offer 
ing  a  Havana :  "  'Ave  a  cigar,  Peer  ?  I  always  like  to 
Erocke  over  my  business,  I  can  recommend  these  \  my 


MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  17 1 

son  sent  'em  to  me  from  Cuba.  Put  some  in  your  pocket, 
Harthur,  my  lad.  My  darter  won't  object.  I  trained 
her  when  a  baby  on  my  knee  to  the  hodor  of  the  weed." 

Thus  urged,  his  lordship  accepts  and  Arthur  takes 
Potter's  advice  and  two  or  three  of  his  cigars,  for  he  has 
smoke  1  one  of  the  Texan's  the  day  before,  and  has  been 
longing  for  another  like  it  ever  since,  After  lighting  up, 
however,  the  young  man  watching  his  opportunity  whis 
pers  to  his  father :  "  Remember,  I  love  his  daughter,"  and 
leaves  the  room. 

Looking  after  him  Potter  remarks  :  "  A  pretty  likely 
boy !  Won't  he  and  my  darter  make  a  team  ?  Eh, 
Peer  !  " 

At  this  Lord  Lincoln  smiles  for  he  is  very  proud  of 
his  son,  but  with  a  lawyer's  caution  replies:  "Before 
we  proceed,  you  will  excuse  me  asking  you  a  question, 
Mr.  Potter,  as  to  your  family.  Any  one  about  here  can 
tell  you  all  about  the  Lincolns,  but  you  come  from  a 
distant  country  and  I  should  like  to  know  a  little  of  your 
family  history." 

"  That's  natural  !"  says  Potter,  "  and  I'll  tell  you  my 
life.  I  was  born  in  England,  of  no  family  to  speak  of  ; 
my  parents  died  before  I  knew  'em.  I  was  educated  at 
a  Blue  Coat  school,  hemigrated  to  Texas  at  fifteen,  started 
across  the  plains  on  the  gold  fever  to  California.  Our 
train  was  massacreed  by  Injuns  and  I  and  Ida's  mother 
was  all  that  was  left  alive.  I  saved  the  gal,  but  was 
scalped  doing  it.  Like  to  see  my  head  ?  It's  a  curios 
ity  ! " 

"  Not  at  present !  "   gasps  Lord  Lincoln. 

"  All  right,  then  I'll  go  on.  The  future  Mrs.  Potter  was 
of  very  high  'breeding ;  the  blue  grass  blood  of  Kentucky 
flowed  in  her  veins,  her  relations  had  all  been  killed,  and 
I  was  the  only  one  left  to  protect  her.  And  I  did,  and 
loved  her  and  married  her  and  settled  down  and  built  a 
log-cabin,  and  then  after  a  while  Houston,  that's  my  boy, 
was  born,  and  then  came  the  war,  and  I  was  a  colonel  in 
the  Confederate  service " 

"  A  colonel !  you  never  use  the  title  !  "  interjects  the 
Englishman. 

"  No,  I'm  one  of  the  few  men  as  fought  in  the  late 
unpleasantness  as  don't  have  a  military  orniment  to  my 
name.  After  I  was  elected  to  hoffice,  I  found  Con* 


174  MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS* 


for  she  has  been  all  the  morning  in  a  summer  house  that 
commands  a  view  of  the  Folkestone  road,  looking  and 
longing  for  the  sight  of  Charley  Errol,  who  comes  not  ; 
and  Mr.  Van  Cott  and  the  Honorable  Teddy  joining 
them  from  the  billiard-room,  the  party  find  themselves 
complete.  In  fact,  altogether  too  complete  ;  for  Master 
Teddy,  who  has  been  permitted  the  pleasures  of  the 
adult  table  in  honor  of  Mr.  Potter's  visit,  contrives  to 
make  two  remarkable  faux  pas  that  produce  unexpected 
effects  in  the  far-off  future. 

First  of  all,  in  the  jovial  unconcern  of  youth,  he  inci 
dentally  calls  little  Van  Cott  a  dude. 

"Oh,  he's  a  dude,  is  he? "says  Mr.  Potter  in  an 
awful  tone  of  voice,  glaring  so  strangely  at  the  unfortu 
nate  Van  Cott  that  he  squirms  in  his  chair,  though  every 
one  else  bursts  into  a  laugh.  "A  dude  !  I've  never  seen 
one  afore,  but  I've  read  of  them.  Thar  was  one  down 
our  way  once,  but  he  got  lost  somewhar  before  he  got  to 
my  place.  He  was  never  found. " 

This  last  Mr.  Potter  utters  very  solemnly,  and  though  he 
does  not  mention  the  subject  again,  from  this  moment  he 
begins  to  despise,  loathe,  and  hate  Mr.  Van  Cott.  For  the 
name  having  been  just  coined,  every  would-be  humorist 
of  the  day  in  America  had  been  shooting  his  bolt  at  the 
tribe  ;  and  had  made  the  name  of  dude  a  title  of  con 
tempt  and  derision,  especially  in  the  extreme  West,  where 
they  never  saw  the  article,  and  judged  of  it  only  from 
what  the  newspapers  said  about  it.  As  for  Mr.  Potter,  he 
regards  dudes  in  the  same  category  as  he  does  Indians, 
greasers,  and  rattlesnakes  ;  that  is,  things  to  be  killed  on 
sight. 

"  Now,  I  appeal  to  you  all,  especially  the  ladies,  is  it 
not  perfectly  fearful  of  young  Master  Teddy  to  call  me  a 
dude?"  cries  Van  Cott. 

"  Can't  you  stand  a  little  truth  ?  "  says  Potter,  looking 
at  him  with  scorn.  "  You're  as  tender  and  as  touchy 
as  a  newspaper  after  it's  slandered  every  man  in  the  com 
munity  except  the  editor  !  " 

"You  don't  seem  to  like  newspapers," suggests  Lord 
Lincoln,  wishing  to  change  the  subject. 

"  No,  sir !  I  ran  for  Congress  once  and  one  of  'em 
called  me  an  alias,"  returns  Potter  snappishly.  "  Of 
course  I  had  the  editor  out." 


POTTER  OF  TEXAS.  I7f 


«  Papa !  don't— don't,  please,  tell  us  any  of  your  awful 
duels  !  "  cries  his  daughter,  remembering  with  a  shudder 
the  stories  of  her  father's  deadly  pistol. 

«  This  wasn't  so  bad,"  says  Potter  with  a  grin.  "  Lord 
bless  you,  he  looked  so  young  that  I  pitied  him  and  only 
shot  him  through  the  arm,  though  I  was  most  certain  it 
would  lose  me  my  election." 

"  A  deed  of  mercy  lose  you  your  election  ? "  echoes 
Arthur,  astonished. 

"  Yes.  You  see  the  boys  didn't  look  at  it  in  that  way  ; 
they  kinder  thought  I  had  lost  my  nerve,  and  couldn't  shoot 
any  more,  and  so  went  back  on  me."  And  Mr.  Potter  goes 
to  eating  in  a  savage  manner,  thinking  of  the  wrongs  he 
has  received  from  the  press,  as  what  American  politician 
has  not  ? 

A  few  moments  after  this,  Mr.  Potter  is  giving  a  gen 
eral  dissertation  on  some  scientific  subject,  when  the 
Honorable  Teddy,  who  during  the  meal  has  been  gazing 
at  him  with  open-eyed,  open-mouthed  curiosity,  and 
has  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  been  unable  to  eat,  sud 
denly  petrifies  everybody  by  asking  :  "  Say,  when  the  In 
dians  scalped  you  did  they  take  out  the  brains  ?  " 

This  remark  seems  so  horribly  appropriate,  for  Potter 
has  been  in  very  deep  water  upon  the  scientific  question, 
that  every  one  stops  eating  and  there  comes  a  cruel  si 
lence,  broken  only  by  a  snicker  from  Van  Cott.  Then 
Arthur  without  saying  a  word  ejects  the  youthful  seeker 
after  knowledge. 

Meantime  catching  Van  Cott's  giggle,  and  not  liking  to 
be  laughed  at  by  a  dude  (as  which  Mr.  Potter  now  regards 
him)  the  frontier  warrior  turns  an  awful  eye  upon  this 
snickering  civilized  creature  and  says :  4<  Young  man, 
don't  play  with  me  !  " 

«  N— n— no — I  won't !  "  gasps  Van  Cott,  his  laugh  dy 
ing  away  in  a  peculiar  choking  gurgle,  and  the  whole 
party  are  relieved  when  the  meal  is  over. 

Mr.  Potter  soon  recovers  his  good  humor,  and  tells 
them  he  is1  going  to  Boulogne  to  thank  Lady  Annerley 
for  past  favors. 

To  which  his  daughter  makes  no  objection,  imagining 
it  is  for  that  lady's  chaperonage  of  her  upon  the  Conti 
nent  ;  though  both  Arthur  and  Ethel  look  serious  at  the 
mention  of  her  name,  Arthur,  because  he  sees  that  his 


174  MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS* 

for  she  has  been  all  the  morning  in  a  summer  house  that 
commands  a  view  of  the  Folkestone  road,  looking  and 
longing  for  the  sight  of  Charley  Errol,  who  comes  not  ; 
and  Mr.  Van  Cott  and  the  Honorable  Teddy  joining 
them  from  the  billiard-room,  the  party  find  themselves 
complete.  In  fact,  altogether  too  complete  ;  for  Master 
Teddy,  who  has  been  permitted  the  pleasures  of  the 
adult  table  in  honor  of  Mr.  Potter's  visit,  contrives  to 
make  two  remarkable  faux  pas  that  produce  unexpected 
effects  in  the  far-off  future. 

First  of  all,  in  the  jovial  unconcern  of  youth,  he  inci 
dentally  calls  little  Van  Cott  a  dude. 

"Oh,  he's  a  dude,  is  he? "says  Mr.  Potter  in  an 
awful  tone  of  voice,  glaring  so  strangely  at  the  unfortu 
nate  Van  Cott  that  he  squirms  in  his  chair,  though  every 
one  else  bursts  into  a  laugh.  "A  dude  !  I've  never  seen 
one  afore,  but  I've  read  of  them.  Thar  was  one  down 
our  way  once,  but  he  got  lost  somewhar  before  he  got  to 
my  place.  He  was  never  found. " 

This  last  Mr.  Potter  utters  very  solemnly,  and  though  he 
does  not  mention  the  subject  again,  from  this  moment  he 
begins  to  despise,  loathe,  and  hate  Mr.  Van  Cott.  For  the 
name  having  been  just  coined,  every  would-be  humorist 
of  the  day  in  America  had  been  shooting  his  bolt  at  the 
tribe  ;  and  had  made  the  name  of  dude  a  title  of  con 
tempt  and  derision,  especially  in  the  extreme  West,  where 
they  never  saw  the  article,  and  judged  of  it  only  from 
what  the  newspapers  said  about  it.  As  for  Mr.  Potter,  he 
regards  dudes  in  the  same  category  as  he  does  Indians, 
greasers,  and  rattlesnakes  ;  that  is,  things  to  be  killed  on 
sight. 

"  Now,  I  appeal  to  you  all,  especially  the  ladies,  is  it 
not  perfectly  fearful  of  young  Master  Teddy  to  call  me  a 
dude  ? "  cries  Van  Cott. 

"  Can't  you  stand  a  little  truth  ?  "  says  Potter,  looking 
at  him  with  scorn.  "  You're  as  tender  and  as  touchy 
as  a  newspaper  after  it's  slandered  every  man  in  the  com 
munity  except  the  editor  !  " 

^You  don't  seem  to  like  newspapers,"  suggests  Lord 
Lincoln,  wishing  to  change  the  subject. 

"  No,  sir !  I  ran  for  Congress  once  and  one  of  'em 
called  me  an  alias,"  returns  Potter  snappishly.  "  Of 
course  I  had  the  editor  out." 


lift.   POTTER  OF  TEXAS.  Iff 

«  Papa !  don't— don't,  please,  tell  us  any  of  your  awful 
duels  !  "  cries  his  daughter,  remembering  with  a  shudder 
the  stories  of  her  father's  deadly  pistol. 

"  This  wasn't  so  bad,"  says  Potter  with  a  grin.  "  Lord 
bless  you,  he  looked  so  young  that  I  pitied  him  and  only 
shot  him  through  the  arm,  though  I  was  most  certain  it 
would  lose  me  my  election." 

"  A  deed  of  mercy  lose  you  your  election  ? "  echoes 
Arthur,  astonished. 

"  Yes.  You  see  the  boys  didn't  look  at  it  in  that  way  ; 
they  kinder  thought  I  had  lost  my  nerve,  and  couldn't  shoot 
any  more,  and  so  went  back  on  me."  And  Mr.  Potter  goes 
to  eating  in  a  savage  manner,  thinking  of  the  wrongs  he 
has  received  from  the  press,  as  what  American  politician 
has  not  ? 

A  few  moments  after  this,  Mr.  Potter  is  giving  a  gen- 
eral  dissertation  on  some  scientific  subject,  when  the 
Honorable  Teddy,  who  during  the  meal  has  been  gazing 
at  him  with  open-eyed,  open-mouthed  curiosity,  and 
has  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  been  unable  to  eat,  sud 
denly  petrifies  everybody  by  asking  :  "  Say,  when  the  In 
dians  scalped  you  did  they  take  out  the  brains?" 

This  remark  seems  so  horribly  appropriate,  for  Potter 
has  been  in  very  deep  water  upon  the  scientific  question, 
that  every  one  stops  eating  and  there  comes  a  cruel  si 
lence,  broken  only  by  a  snicker  from  Van  Cott.  Then 
Arthur  without  saying  a  word  ejects  the  youthful  seeker 
after  knowledge. 

Meantime  catching  Van  Cott's  giggle,  and  not  liking  to 
be  laughed  at  by  a  dude  (as  which  Mr.  Potter  now  regards 
him)  the  frontier  warrior  turns  an  awful  eye  upon  this 
snickering  civilized  creature  and  says  :  *c  Young  man, 
don't  play  with  me  !  " 

«  N— n— no — I  won't !  "  gasps  Van  Cott,  his  laugh  dy 
ing  away  in  a  peculiar  choking  gurgle,  and  the  whole 
party  are  relieved  when  the  meal  is  over. 

Mr.  Potter  soon  recovers  his  good  humor,  and  tells 
them  he  is'  going  to  Boulogne  to  thank  Lady  Annerley 
for  past  favors. 

To  which  his  daughter  makes  no  objection,  imagining 
it  is  for  that  lady's  chaperonage  of  her  upon  the  Conti 
nent  ;  though  both  Arthur  and  Ethel  look  serious  at  the 
mention  of  her  name,  Arthur,  because  he  sees  that  his 


17*  MR.   POTTER  OF   TEXAS. 

sister  fears  her  influence  on  Errol,  and  Ethel  because  he! 
Charley  has  not  yet  come  to  see  her  father. 

As  they  are  all  assembled  to  bid  Mr.  Potter  good-by 
she  ventures  to  ask  him  rather  tremblingly  if  he  has  seen 
Mr,  Errol  that  day. 

"Why  yes,"  he  replies;  "saw  him  at  the  hotel  at 
Folkestone  as  I  drove  over." 

Then  noticing  the  anxious  glance  of  the  young  lady, 
and  remembering  his  daughter  has  told  him  that  Ethel  is 
in  love  with  the  Australian,  Mr.  Potter  proceeds  to  fig 
uratively  drive  a  nail  in  that  gentleman's  coffin.  He 
takes  Lord  Lincoln  aside  and  says  to  him  :  "  Peer,  I've 
heard  as  how  young  Errol  is  a  sparking  your  daughter ; 
now,  being  as  it  were  one  of  the  family,  I  wants  to  warn 
you  of  him." 

"  Why,  what  has  he  done  ? "  asks  Lincoln,  looking  very 
serious. 

"  Last  night  at  the  'otel  I  saw  him  fresh  and  hearty;  this 
morning  when  I  came  from  London  he  looked  gone  up, 
couldn't  gaze  me  in  the  heye — seemed  ashamed  like. 
Now  thar's  only  one  thing  does  that  kind  of  business 
over  night  and  that's  too  much  whisky  !  " 

"  Potter,  you  must  be  mistaken  !  "  gasps  his  lordship. 

"  Not  at  all !  We  have  whisky  in  Texas,  and  I  know 
the  effects  of  it."  And  with  a  farewell  kiss  to  his 
daughter,  Mr.  Potter  gets  in  the  carriage  that  has  come 
for  him,  and  drives  off  for  Folkestone  on  his  way  to 
Boulogne. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

AM   ENGLISH  JUDGE. 

THE  library  of  Channel  View  is  upon  the  ground  floor, 

and  French  windows  make  it  easy  of  access  from  the  ter 
race,  which  leads  down  to  the  gardens  at  the  back  of  the 
house.  Soon  after  Mr.  Potter's  departure,  his  daughter 
wanders  into  this  room,  and  not  finding  interest  in  any  of 
the  law-books  with  which  its  shelves  are  crowded,  passes 
from  it  into  another  and  smaller  apartment  where  novels 
and  lighter  literature  abound.  This  apartment  is  only 
separated  from  the  other  by  a  curtained  arch,  and  sitting 


MR.   POTTER  OF    TEXAS.  I|Jf 

down  to  read,  for  Arthur  is  at  present  occupied  with  his 
father,  after  a  few  minutes  Miss  Potter  gets  a  surprise 
and  then  a  shock. 

Lord  Lincoln  comes  into  the  library.  Actuated  by 
Mr.  Potter's  remarks,  he  has  just  had  a  little  conversa 
tion  with  Arthur,  and  asked  that  gentleman  some  rather 
pointed  questions  about  young  Errol  which  have  set 
his  son  to  grinding  his  teeth,  as  he  sees  his  sister's  pale 
cheeks  and  suffering  eyes  ;  for  he  attributes  the  tardiness 
of  Ethel's  lover  entirely  to  Lady  Annerley. 

This  interview  is  broken  up,  however,  by  Miss  Ethel 
herself,  who  comes  running  to  her  father,  a  pretty  blush 
upon  her  face,  and  whispers :  "  Papa,  go  into  the  li 
brary,  he's  coming  up  the  lawn.  I  saw  him  with  an  opera- 
glass.  " 

"  He — who?"  says  the  peer,  not  catching  her  meaning 
for  a  moment. 

"  Why,  my — the  gentleman  I — I  spoke  to  you  about ! 
Papa,  what  makes  you  ask  such  horrid,  searching  ques 
tions  ?  I'm  not  on  the  witness-stand  !  "  laughs  the  girl, 
who  is  now  as  happy  as  a  bird  in  summer. 

"  Oh  !  ha— Mr.  Errol  !  " 

"And  I  wish  to  say  just  one  word  more  aboui;  my 
Charley,  I  love  him !  "  and  with  this  she  playfully  shoves 
Lord  Lincoln  into  the  library,  and  as  she  does  so,  her 
father  knows  she  tells  the  truth,  and  prays  that  Potter 
may  have  been  mistaken. 

"  You  told  me  that  twenty  times  last  night !  " 

"  Did  I?"  This  is  in  a  tone  of  astonished  reflection. 
"  Then,"  she  says,  with  great  decision,  "  I  tell  it  to  you 
again  !  So  I  hope  you'll  help  him  on  a  bit.  You  know 
it  must  be  very  embarrassing  for  a  young  man  to  ask  the 
father." 

"  More  so  than  it  is  to  ask  the  daughter  ?  "  returns  the 
father,  patting  her  cheek. 

"  Oh  !  very  much  more  so  !  "  This  is  said  contempla 
tively.  "  You  see  he  hasn't  the  inspiration — that's  me  /" 
and  she  looks  at  her  father  archly  and  laughs. 

"  Then  the  inspiration  had  better  be  present !  " 

"  Ough  !  I  couldn't  think  of  that !  But  wait  till  you 
see  my  Charley  ;  no  one  could  resist  my  Charley.  When 
he  says  :  '  Darling,  I  love  you,'  you'll  kiss  him — I  mean 
I'll  kiss  him— oh !  what  do  I  msaa  I "  cries  Miss  Ethel,, 


I?  MR.    POTTER  OF   TEXAS. 

getting  red  in  the  face  at  some  of  the  thoughts  in  hef 
head. 

"  Do  you  think  he'll  dare  address  me  in  that  way  ?  " 

"  No,  not  if  you  look  as  solemn  as  that !  But,  papa 
dear,  don't  keep  him  long  from  me.  Just  give  him  your 
blessing  and  send  him  out  into  the  garden,  and  I'll — I'll 
do  the  rest.  See,  isn't  his  engagement  ring  pretty?" 
And,  rather  trembling  at  her  audacity,  Miss  Ethel  flashes 
Errol's  diamonds  into  her  father's  face. 

"  And  you  wear  it  before  my  consent  is  received  ? " 
says  her  father  with  a  little  tremble  in  his  voice,  for  this 
is  the  first  tangible  evidence  that  his  daughter  has  set 
up  a  newer  and  a  stronger  idol  in  her  heart. 

"  Because  I  know  you'll  give  it  !  "  And  the  girl,  see 
ing  she  has  wounded  him,  tries  to  apologize  by  kisses. 
Then,  after  a  moment  she  cries  :  "  He'll  be  coming.  Re 
member  I'm  in  the  garden,"  and  gets  to  one  of  the  win 
dows,  then  turns  and  throws  her  father  another  kiss  and 
laughs  :  "  No  one  could  resist  my  Charley  !  "  and  flies  to 
hide  her  blushes  and  her  love  from  the  man  coming  up 
the  avenue. 

Here  Miss  Potter,  who  has  heard  but  little  of  this  inter 
view,  for  it  has  been  carried  on  mostly  in  an  undertone 
between  father  and  daughter,  would  come  out. 

She  is  about  to  do  so  when  somebody  staggers  into  the 
library  from  one  of  the  French  windows,  and  she  hears 
a  voice  which  she  knows,  but  hoarse  and  changed,  and 
then  Percy  Lincoln  answering  him,  and  as  he  does  so,  his 
voice  becomes  grating  and  harsh,  for  he  suffers  too. 
The  words  they  say  drive  her  back.  And  as  they  go  on 
she,  standing  there  behind  the  curtains,  her  eyes  filled 
with  sympathy  and  horror,  hears  things  that  make  her 
start  and  writhe,  and  at  the  close  she  could  cry  out  and 
groan  and  moan  like  the  other  two  ;  for  from  one  man's 
agony  comes  another's  woe,  and  then  from  that  a  wom 
an's  fears  and  tremblings,  and  almost  despair.  For  this 
is  what  they  say. 

It  is  Errol's  voice  speaks  first : 

"  You  are  Percy  Lincoln,  once  judge  of  the  Queen's 
Bench?" 

"And  who  are  you?"  cries  the  peer,  for  the  creature 
before  him  isunshaved,  and  his  clothes,  though  good,  are 
those  o*  **  man  who  has  not  been  to  bed,  his  linen  dirty 


MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS.  179 

and  unchanged,  and  he  has  matted  hair  and  blood-shot 
eyes  that  have  a  hangdog  look  about  them  and  seek 
the  floor. 

"  I  am  Charles  Errol,  son  of  Ralph  Errol,  the  con 
vict,  whom  you  sentenced  thirty  years  ago  as  a  thief  and 
burglar,  but  I  didn't  know  it  till  last  night ! " 

"  My  heavens,  how  ill  you're  looking,  my  poor  boy  !  " 
and  Lincoln  would  ring  for  assistance  and  refreshment, 
but  the  other  stops  him  saying  :  "  No — she'd  come  in,  and 
I  couldn't  look  at  her  !"*' 

At  this  there's  a  gasp,  "  My  daughter  !  "  though  Errol 
appears  to  hardly  hear  it,  and  goes  on  :  "  That's  why  I 
sneaked  in  here.  I  haven't  slept  !  All  last  night  I  was 
thinking — thinking — thinking  that  I  was  a  convict's  son, 
that  when  to-morrow's  sun  arose  I  couldn't  look  you  or 
any  other  man  in  the  face,  for  I'm  not  accustomed  to  this 
shame  !  My  father  hid  it  from  me.  Oh  !  if  he  had  not !  " 
Here  the  poor  fellow  pleads  :  "  I  wouldn't  have  brought 
sorrow  into  your  family.  But  now  I  appeal  to  you, 
not  as  a  father,  but  as  a  lawyer.  You  have  left  the 
bench  !  My  father  says  he  is  innocent.  I  believe  him  ! 
Aid  me  to  prove  it  for  my  sake,  for  your  daughter's 
sake." 

"  Good  heavens  !  Ethel !  "  mutters  the  judge,  begin 
ning  to  tremble.  Then  he  says,  forcing  himself  to  calm 
ness  for  her  sake  :  "  Do  you  know  the  circumstances  of 
your  father's  conviction  ? " 

"  No !  " 

"  What  date  was  it  ? " 

"  Somewhere  about  thirty-two  or  three  years  ago  !  " 

And  Percy  Lincoln,  staggering  to  one  of  his  book-cases, 
looks  over  his  bound  journal  of  cases  tried  before  him, 
and  finally,  in  the  record  of  the  year  1850,  "THE  QUEEN 
vs.  RALPH  ERROL  !  "  stares  him  in  the  face.  Then  get 
ting  to  his  desk  again,  he  reads  this  memorandum,  and  be 
gins  to  remember  something  of  that  curious  case.  "  Bur 
glary  and  theft,"  he  mutters  ;  then  gives  a  flash  of  hope 
to  the  creature  who  is  hanging  on  his  words,  for  he  says  : 
"  I  charged  in  favor  of  the  prisoner  !  " 

"  God  bless  you  for  that !  " 

"  But  the  jury  thought  him  guilty  !  Try  and  calm  your 
self  so  as  to  listen  to  me  ! "  And  Lord  Lincoln,  restrain 
ing  his  own  agitation,  reads  Errol  these  notes  upon  his 


f8o  MR,    POTTER    OF    TEXAS. 

tether's  case  :  "'  Ralph  Errol,  age  twenty-five,  married, 
clerk  of  Jaffey  &  Stevens,  bankers,  Fleet  Street,  London. 
Charged  with  stealing  on  January  6,  1850,  A.  D.,  one 
hundred  sovereigns,  purposely  marked  to  detect  thief.' 
My  notes  are  very  complete.  I  have  even  on  this  page  an 
accurate  description  of  the  marked  coins — look  !  " 

Placing  the  book  before  Charley  Errol,  the  judge 
reads  on  :  "  Each  sovereign  was  of  the  coinage  of  1849, 
and  was  identified  by  a  cross  placed  between  the  figures 
8  and  4  in  the  date." 

At  this,  if  they  were  not  so  interested,  they  would  hear 
from  the  room  where  Ida  Potter  stands  a  little  cry  of  sur 
prise  ;  for  she  is  gazing  astounded  at  the  coin  upon  her 
bracelet. 

"  The  prisoner  was  arrested  on  board  the  Australian 
packet,  and  on  his  person,  or  disposed  of  by  him  and  re 
covered,  were  seventy  of  the  one  hundred  marked  coins. 
The  remaining  thirty  were  supposed  to  have  been  taken 
by  his  confederate,  the  office  boy,  who  disappeared  the 
same  day — Sammy  Potts  !  " 

Here  the  listening  woman  reels  and  mutters  a  cry  of 
dismay,  though  it  is  under  her  b'reath. 

"Sammy  Potts  !"  says  Errol  hoarsely  ;  "that's  the  boy 
my  father  mentioned." 

But  the  judge  reads  on  :  "  Jonas  Stevens,  the  manag 
ing  clerk  of  Jaffey  &  Stevens,  testified  sovereigns  were 
marked  to  detect  thief,  as  firm  had  lost  ^5,000  before 
by  similar  thefts,  undoubtedly  made  by  some  one  in  their 
bank.  He  appeared  friendly  to  prisoner  and  said  what 
he  could  for  him." 

•'  You  see,  he  thought  him  innocent,"  interrupts  Errol. 

"  This  journal  does  not  say  so  !  "  remarks  the  lawyer, 
tvho  goes  on  reading :  "  The  inner  door  of  the  office  had 
been  forced.  The  jury  found  a  breaking  and  entering, 
and  convicted  on  second  count — burglary.  Prisoner 
when  about  to  be  sentenced  made  the  following  remark 
able  statement :  He  had  intended  to  emigrate  to  Aus 
tralia,  but  knowing  his  wife's  parents  would  object  to  their 
daughter  leaving  England,  had  secretly  taken  passage  for 
Melbourne,  collected  his  savings,  one  hundred  sover 
eigns,  resigned  his  position  at  Jaffey  &  Stevens,  placed 
his  money  in  a  bag  in  his  private  desk  at  bank.  Went 
home,  returned  the  next  morning,  found  office  door  open, 


MR.   POTTER  OF   TEXAS.  ffti 

took  his  bag  of  sovereigns,  and  went  on  board  the  vessel, 
where  his  wife  met  him  ;  before  sailing,  was  arrested  and 
dragged  back,  to  be  convicted  of  stealing  his  own  prop 
erty  or  what  had  been  substituted  for  it.  Concluding 
said  :  '  Find  Sammy  Potts,  the  office  boy,  who  slept  in 
the  building  and  has  so  mysteriously  disappeared,  and 
against  whom  a  true  bill  has  been  brought  as  my  accom 
plice  — find  the  other  thirty  marked  sovereigns,  and  you'll 
have  the  clew  to  what  makes  me  a  criminal  and  drives  me 
a  convict  from  the  land  of  my  birth  ! '  "  then  Percy  Lin 
coln  closes  the  book. 

"  This  Jonas  Stevens  who  spoke  for  my  father — yes, 
and  did  more  than  that ;  for  here  is  his  name  attached  to 
a  number  of  the  advertisements  for  Sammy  Potts,"  bursts 
in  Errol,  showing  the  lawyer  a  lot  of  the  papers  he  has 
obtained  from  London,  "  where  is  he  ?" 

"  Dead  ! " 

"  Ah  !  death  cuts  me  off  everywhere  !  " 

"  He  became  the  great  banker,  the  late  Sir  Jonas  Ste 
vens." 

"  The  father  of  Lady  Annerley  !  That  is  why  she  was 
so  interested  in  me  ;  she  might  aid — 

"  She  can  know  nothing  of  importance,"  returns  the 
judge  calmly  but  sorrowfully.  "  At  this  late  date  your 
case  is  almost  hopeless." 

"  It  shall  not  be  hopeless !  "  cries  out  the  Australian 
with  the  ardor  of  youth.  "  Name  any  fee  you  like,  but 
help  me  to  prove  my  father  is  a  wronged  man  !  " 

"  Any  fee  ? "  mutters  Lord  Lincoln,  and  begins  to  think. 

"  I  am  imploring  you  not  only  for  my  sake,  but  for 
your  daughter's — her  happiness " 

"  Her  happiness !  "  gasps  the  peer,  and  then,  after  a 
moment,  he  says  slowly  :  <l  Young  man,  I'll  take  your 
3ase  !  " 

"  Heaven  bless  you  !  " 

"  But  you  must  pay  my  fee  !  M 

"  How  much  ?  " 

"  It  is  not  money  !  " 

"  Not  money  ?  " 

"  I  want  my  daughter's  happiness  ! "  cries  the  peer 
hoarsely.  "  I  shall  prepare  a  paper  and  you  must  sign 
it !  "  and  with  that  he  sits  down  and  writes  very  rapidly. 

"  My  God  1  I  know  what  you're  going  to  do.     You're 


l82  MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

going  to  ask  me  to  give  her  up,"  cries  back  the  young 
man,  wringing  his  hands  and  sinking  into  a  chair  and 
gazing  at  the  father  of  his  loved  one  who  is  going  to  take 
her  from  him  forever. 

And  as  he  sits  there,  his  back  to  the  window,  Miss 
Ethel  puts  her  head  in  and  cries  :  "  Papa,  you  are  keep 
ing  Charley  very  long  !  " 

At  her  voice  the  two  men  shudder  and  gaze  at  each 
other,  but  neither  dares  look  at  her.  Then,  though  she 
does  not  come  in,  she  breaks  her  lover's  heart,  for  she 
tosses  some  roses  playfully  over  him  and  laughs :  "  I'll 
be  found  in  the  garden,"  and  goes  off  singing  in  merry 
contrast  to  the  poor  wretch,  who  snatches  up  the  flowers 
and  gasps  :  "  Perhaps  after  to-day  this  is  all  I'll  have  left 
of  her !  "  then  covers  them  with  kisses  and  crushes 
them  into  his  bosom. 

By  this  time  his  lordship  has  finished  writing  and 
says,  "  Listen  !  "  and  then  very  solemnly  reads  to  Errol 
something  that  sounds  to  him  like  a  death-warrant,  for  it 
is  :  "  I,  Charles  Errol,  do  hereby  release  Miss  Ethel  Lin 
coln  from  any  promise  she  has  made  me,  and  consent 
never  to  speak  to  her  again." 

"  Sign  that  and  keep  it ! "  cries  the  peer,  "  and  I'll  labor 
for  your  father  till  the  day  of  my  death  !  " 

"  You — you  wish  to  separate  me  from  your  daughter's 
life  ? " 

"  Entirely ! " 

Finding  no  mercy  in  the  old  man's  tone,  the  younger 
one  breaks  out  in  despair :  "  Thirty  years  ago  you  sen 
tenced  my  father  to  banishment ;  to-day,  for  being  his  son, 
you  sentence  me  to  worse  !  Your  daughter  loves  me  !  " 

"  That's  the  reason  !  "  says  Lincoln  with  a  groan.  "  I 
will  not  have  her  life  wrecked  by  marrying  the  son  of  a 
criminal !  There's  not  one  chance  in  a  thousand  of  prov 
ing  your  father's  innocence  !  " 

"  Then  give  the  son  that  chance  also ! "  shrieks  out 
Errol.  "  I  have  everything  on  earth  to  make  your  child 
happy,  save  family  honor  ;  if  I  regain  that,  and  lose  her, 
i  have  nothing  but  honor.  Pity  me,  pity  her,  give  rue 
the  one  chance  in  a  thousand  1 " 

This  last  is  said  in  a  way  that  affects  the  father  very 
deeply.  He  begins  to  reflect  that  his  daughter  loves  the 
young  fellow  who  is  before  him,  more  agitated  and  more 


MR.   POTTER  OF   TEXAS.  l$ 

broken  than  if  he  were  sentencing  him  to  death.  Look 
ing  at  him,  and  seeing  how  he  suffers,  he  imagines  his 
Ethel  gazing  at  him  with  the  same  despair,  and  after  a 
moment's  consideration  he  says  :  "  I  will  give  you  the 
one  chance  ! "  then  tears  up  the  paper. 

«  I  i — I !  "  Errol's  eyes  beam  with  hope. 

"  For  I  believe  you  love  my  child  !  and  now  your  word 
of  honor  as  a  man,  that,  till  I  give  you  my  permission,  you 
will  not  speak  to  her  !  " 

"  God  bless  you  !  it  is  yours  ! "  and  Charley  seizes  his 
hand. 

"  On  your  honor  as  a  man  !  "  says  the  father  solemnly. 

"  On  my  honor  as  a  man  !  "  returns  the  Australian, 
looking  Lord  Lincoln  straight  in  the  eyes.  "  But  you 
will  work  for  my  father's  good  name  ? " 

"Yes,  and  for  my  daughter's  happiness!"  and  the 
lawyer  rings  the  bell  and  orders  his  carriage. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  "  asks  Errol,  who  now  for  the 
first  time  since  the  night  before  seems  to  have  regained 
thorough  command  of  his  senses. 

"  To  London  to  read  up  the  complete  record  of  your 
case  !  Where  can  I  communicate  with  your  father  ? " 

"  In  Boulogne  ;  they  ordered  him  out  of  England  last 
night  !  " 

"  Last  night !  Humph  !  curious  the  Home  Office  got 
the  information  so  suddenly.  I  must  investigate  that  I" 
says  Lincoln,  who  is  now  becoming  interested  in  his 
case  as  a  lawyer. 

Here  a  servant  enters  and  says :  "  A  man  named 
Brackett  wishes  to  see  Mr.  Errol !  " 

"  This  is  Mr.  Errol,"  replies  the  peer,  and  then  takes 
Charley  aside  and  asks  :  "  Who  is  Brackett  ?  " 

"  The  detective  who  took  my  father  out  of  England.  I 
hired  him  to  discover  if  any  one  informed  the  Home  Office 
of  my  father's  arrival." 

"  Quite  right,"  returns  the  lawyer.  "If  he  has  discov 
ered  anything,  let  me  know  at  once.  My  London  address 
is  '  the  Carleton  ! ' ' 

"  Won't  you  see  him  ? "  asks  Errol. 

«  NO — at  least  not  at  present.  I  don't  care  about  being 
known  as  your  counsel  in  this  matter.  Even  if  you 
prove  your  father's  innocence,  the  only  way  he  can 
now  be  set  right  before  the  world  is  her  majesty's  free 


li4  MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

pardon,  and  as  the  judge  who  presided  at  the  trial,  my 

recommendation  will  have  greater  weight  if  I  do  not  act 
publicly  as  his  lawyer.  See  this  man  here,  and  telegraph 
me  what  he  says.  Then,  for  God's  sake,  get  away  without 
letting  my  daughter  see  you  !  " 

With  this  he  turns  to  the  servant  and  says  :  "  Show 
Mr.  Brackett  in  !  " 

"  What  shall  I  do  then  ? "  asks  Errol  hopelessly. 

"  Devote  your  time  to  finding  those  thirty  marked  sov' 
ereigng,  and  if  alive  Sammy  Potts!"  says  his  lordship 
hurriedly.  "  I'm  afraid  it's  your  father's  only  chance !  " 

Then  Lord  Lincoln,  with  a  very  grave  face,  goes  out  to 
his  carriage,  passing  Sergeant  Brackett,  who  is  coming  in 
preceded  by  his  little  dog,  and  who  pulls  off  his  hat  to 
the  peer  and  says  :  "  Morning,  my  lord  !  " 

Arrived  at  his  carriage  Lincoln  mutters  to  the  footman  : 
"  To  the  London  train  !  tell  'em  I'll  be  down  to-night !  " 
and  drives  away,  turning  over  in  his  mind  how  he  shall 
break  the  news  to  his  daughter,  whom  he  is  for  the  first 
time  in  his  life  not  anxious  to  see. 

"  Well  ?"  says  Charley,  hurriedly,  as  the  detective  comes 
in. 

"  Well !  "  returns  Brackett,  lifting  little  Snapper  into 
a  chair. 

"  How  did  you  leave  my  father  ?  " 

"  In  Boulogne,  at  the  Hdtel  d' Angleterre.  He  was  as 
happy  as  could  be  expected.  He  told  me  to  say  so  to 
you." 

"Yes,  the  dear  old  governor  always  remembers  me," 
mutters  Errol,  and  thinking  of  his  father's  disgrace  and 
humiliation,  his  son's  lip  trembles,  but  after  a  moment  he 
says  :  u  Go  on  !  " 

"  Well,  I  returned  to  London  last  night,  and  this  morn 
ing—I  have  rather  a  pull  on  one  of  the  clerks  in  the  Home 
Office — I  got  a  look  at  the  letters." 

"  The  letters  ?  " 

"  Yes,  there  was  two  of  'em,  and  I  then  found  out  who 
sent  the  information  that  your  father  was  expected  from 
Australia." 

"His  name?" 

"  Not  his,  but  hers— Lady  Annerley  !  " 

"  Lady  Annerley  ?  She's  the  dearest  friend  I  have  on 
earth !  You  are.  mistaken,  sir  !  "  returns  Errol,  sternly. 


MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS.  185 

"  You  can't  calculate  on  widows  or  women,  sir," 
mutters  Brackett,  respectfully  but  firmly,  "  and  I'll  prove 

it. " 

"That  she  would  deliberately  injure  me  in  this  cruel 
way — I'll  not  believe  you  ! "  says  the  Australian  very 
warmly. 

"  But  you  shall,  sir  !  "  exclaims  Brackett,  who  has  dog 
ged  blood  in  his  veins.  "  Knowing  its  importance  I  tele 
graphed  in  your  name  to  her,  and  received  for  you  in 
answer  this  telegram,  and  as  it  was  important  followed 
you  with  it  from  the  hotel  at  Folkestone." 

Then  the  detective,  handing  him  a  telegram  addressed 
to  Charles  Errol,  the  young  man  reads  : 

"  Your  message  received.  Don't  fail  to  come  to-day,  as  I  leave 
Boulogne  to-morrow.  SARAH  ANNERLEY." 

After  looking  this  over  once  or  twice  Charley  care 
lessly  drops  it  on  Judge  Lincoln's  desk,  and  says :  "  This 
explains  nothing,  and  by  no  means  proves  your  story." 

"  Go  to  Boulogne,  sir — see  her,  and  pump  her  in  pei- 
son,"  suggests  Brackett,  eagerly,  and  seeing  Errol  hesitate, 
he  clinches  the  matter  by  adding  :  "  I'll  swear  it.  Why, 
she  even  sent  a  letter  from  Paris  the  day  before  yester 
day.  I  got  a  copy  of  it  before  I  came  down  to  nab 
your  old  man.  It's  in  my  pocket-book  !  "  With  this 
the  detective  shows  Errol  the  following : 

"  To  THE  HOME  SECRETARY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  GOVERNMENT,  LON 
DON: 

"  The  ticket-of-leave  man,  Ralph  Errol,  will  be  in  Folkestone  to 
morrow  afternoon." 

Then  he  says  :  "  The  post-mark  of  that  letter  was 
Paris,  October  i4th.  Was  Lady  Annerley  in  Paris 
then  ? " 

"  Certainly.     We  had  just  arrived  from  Venice  !  " 

"  And  the  post-mark  of  the  first  letter  sent  the  Home 
Secretary  was  Venice,  October  pth.  Where  was  her  lady 
ship  on  that  date  ?  " 

"In  Venice." 

"  Do  you  see  ?  Two  places  fixes  her  pretty  well.  Be 
sides  who  could  have  learned  your  movements  ?  Please 
go  over  and  pump  her,  and  I'll  follow  you  in  a  few  hours 
with  &fac-simile  of  the  letter  she  wrote  from  Italy." 

Thus  adjured  Errol  answers:  "Very  well;  but  until 


l86  MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS. 

you  do  prove  it,  don't  accuse  Sarah  Annerley  of  such  a 
crime  against  me.  Brackett,  let  us  go  !  " 

"  All  right !  "  says  the  detective,  then  calling  to  the  dog, 
"  Stop  biting  that  tidy,  Snapper,"  he  departs  for  Folke 
stone,  followed  by  his  pet. 

Errol  sets  his  teeth  and  follows  the  detective,  groan 
ing  to  himself:  "What  will  Ethel  say  to  my  deserting 
her  without  a  word  ?  " 

He  goes  out  of  the  library,  forgetting  in  his  excitement 
Lady  Annerley's  telegram,  and  not  noticing  the  rustle  of 
a  dress  behind  him.  For  Miss  Potter,  who  has  been  pant 
ing  like  an  imprisoned  dove  and  waiting  for  him  to  go 
away,  staggers  out  of  the  little  room,  and  with  a  very  pale 
though  determined  face  seizes  upon  the  record  of  THE 
QUEEN  vs.  ERROL,  and  reads  it  over,  comparing  the  coin 
upon  her  bracelet  with  the  description  in  the  judge's 
journal,  muttering  :  "  Identical  !  the  same  !  "  Then  she 
cries  :  "  The  name  in  my  father's  Bible — Sainmy  Potts ! 
There's  an  indictment  for  him  as  a  felon  !  "  and  claps  her 
hand  to  her  heart  as  if  she  were  wounded.  But  after  a 
time  she  mutters  :  "  My  father,  a  thief  ?  Absurd  !  I'll 
follow  him  and  ask  him  how  I  coine  to  wear  a  portion 
of  the  plunder  that  made  Ralph  Errol  a  convict." 

With  this  she  gets  out  of  the  room,  calls  her  maid,  and 
leaving  a  note  for  Arthur  saying  business  has  compelled 
her  to  follow  her  father,  walks  down  the  avenue  and 
meets  Lord  Lincoln's  carriage  returning.  This  she  stops 
and  orders  the  coachman  to  take  her  to  Folkestone, 
which  the  man  readily  does  as  he  knows  her  very  well. 
Sc,  attended  by  her  maid,  Miss  Potter  gets  to  the  railway 
station,  and  finding  the  boat  from  Dover  to  Calais  sails 
the  earlier,  seats  herself  in  the  train  to  the  former  place 
and  proceeds  to  Boulogne. 

Errol,  after  walking  gloomily  alongside  the  detective 
for  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  silence,  suddenly  pauses  and 
says :  "  Brackett,  go  on  to  Folkestone  and  get  me  a 
ticket.  I'll  be  after  you  in  a  few  minutes." 

"  You'll  be  late  for  the  boat !  " 

"  I  can't  help  that,"  returns  the  young  man.  "  I've 
left  Lady  Annerley's  telegram  behind  me.  I  must  get 
it  at  any  cost ! "  And  he,  unheeding  the  detective's 
remonstrances,  resolutely  turns  back  toward  Lord  Lin 
coln's  villa,  passing  the  carriage  that  is  bearing  Miss  Pot* 


MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  l8f 

ter  on  her  way  to  Boulogne.  Neither  of  them  sees  the 
other,  both  being  too  occupied  with  their  meditations,  for 
Errol  has  just  now  thought :  "  My  Heaven  !  what  will 
Ethel  imagine  if  she  sees  Lady  Annerley's  telegram?" 
This  idea  sends  him  into  a  run. 

As  for  Mr.  Brackett,  he  trudges  on  toward  Folkestone, 
muttering  :  "I'm  afraid  Lady  Sarah  ain't  going  to  help 
him  much  to  his  father's  innocence.  I  rather  think  it's 
jealousy  or  some  other  cat-like  female  notion  for  the  son 
made  her  ladyship  peach  on  his  old  man  !  " 

Now  all  this  is  very  wise  for  Brackett,  but  he  is  shining 
in  reflected  light.  The  elder  Errol  had  given  him  more 
money  in  Boulogne,  and  Sergeant  Brackett  had  with  it 
hired  the  brightest  mind  upon  the  London  detective  force, 
and  so  far  has  been  acting  under  his  advice.  Later  on, 
when  unexpected  and  trying  circumstances  arise,  Mr. 
Brackett  is  by  no  means  so  shrewd,  and  gets  into  very 
hot  water.  The  sergeant  has  been  sent  down  by  the 
Home  Office  to  do  a  nasty,  cruel  piece  of  business  for 
them  in  as  kind  a  way  as  possible,  for'  Brackett  is  a  man 
with  a  tender  heart  despite  his  official  duties,  though  he 
is  generally  and  justly  regarded  at  Scotland  Yard  as 
the  fool  of  the  force.  However,  he  whistles  to  his  dog, 
and  getting  to  Folkestone  buys  Mr.  Errol  a  ticket  to 
Boulogne,  being  quite  capable  of  such  duties. 

Returned  to  Lord  Lincoln's  house,  Errol  enters  the 
library  cautiously  to  obtain  the  telegram. 

While  searching  for  this,  which  is  not  a  rapid  job,  as 
Miss  Potter  has  in  her  hurry  and  excitement  made  a 
litter  of  the  papers  on  Lord  Lincoln's  table,  he  is  hor 
rified  to  hear  the  Honorable  Teddy  crying  outside : 
"  Come,  Ethel  !  Quick  !  Your  young  man  has  been  look 
ing  for  you  all  over  the  garden  and  can't  find  you  !  He's 
in  the  library  now  !  " 

Knowing  the  terrible  embarrassment  of  meeting  her,  he 
leaves  the  telegram  unfound  and  starts  for  the  window, 
but  as  he  does  so  Arthur  comes  in  through  the  door  lead 
ing  from  the  house  and  says  to  him  :  "  Ah,  Charley,  my 
boy  !  How  did  the  governor  meet  you  ?  All  right,  eh  ?  " 
To  which  Errol  returns  :  u  Yes — but  I  must  go  now — • 
but  before  I  go — "  and  would  explain  to  the  young  man, 
but  Ethel  enters  and  running  to  him  cries  :  "  Why  didn't 
you  come  to  me  in  the  garden  * " 


l88  MR.    POTTER  OF   TEXAS. 

"  You  were  going  without  seeing  my  sister  ? "  remarks 
Arthur  rather  curiously.  For  he  is  in  by  no  means  a  good 
humor,  having  just  got  his  fiancee 's  note,  and  having  heard 
his  future  father-in-law  made  fun  of  by  Van  Cott  by  in 
sinuations  that  he  cannot  resent,  for  they  were  something 
in  this  form  :  "  By  Jove  !  isn't  Miss  Potter  a  noble  girl  ? 
She  really  loves  and  is  proud  of  her  father.  Isn't  it  beau 
tiful  to  see  ?  "  etc.,  etc. 

Miss  Ethel  does  not  pay  any  attention  to  this  ;  she  is 
questioning  with  both  eyes  and  mouth  :  "  What  did  papa 
say  ?  " 

"  He's  gone  to  London,"  stammers  Errol. 

"  Charley,  what  is  the  matter  ? "  cries  the  girl.  "  Why 
don't  you  answer  ?  Oh,  papa  can't  have  refused  !  " 

Here  Errol  astounds  both  brother  and  sister  by  saying 
doggedly  :  "  I — T  haven't  asked  him." 

"  Not  asked  him  ?  "  At  this  Ethel's  lips  begin  to  quiver 
and  tears  to  gather  in  her  eyes,  that  become  reproachful. 

"  Then  what  the,  devil  did  you  come  here  for  ? "  askb 
Arthur  very  savagely,  for  he  has  now  got  something  to 
vent  his  anger  upon  ;  and  hasn't  been  very  much  pleased 
with  Errol's  conduct  in  regard  to  Lady  Annerley  the  day 
before. 

"  I — I  can  tell  you  nothing  !  "  mutters  the  Australian, 
whose  soul  cries  "  No  !  "  to  the  thought  of  telling  the 
woman  he  loves  that  he  is  the  son  of  a  convict. 

"  I  insist  on  knowing  !  "  returns  Arthur.  "  Your  pres 
ence  here,  if  you  did  not  speak,  is  an  insult  to  my  sister." 

But  Ethel  cries  :  "  No,  no,  Arthur  !  Charley  loves  and 
could  not  insult  me  !  " 

And  her  lover  groans  :  "/  insult  you?"  for  xhe  girl 
has  kept  on  begging  him,  as  he  loves  her,  to  tell  her  why 
he  has  not  spoken. 

On  this  Errol  steadies  himself  and  says  to  her,  holding 
her  eyes  with  his  :  "  I  entreat  you  to  believe  me  without 
speaking.  Ethel,  will  you  trust  me  if  I  am  silent  till  I 
return  ? " 

Looking  in  his  face  the  girl  believes,  and  murmurs : 
"  I  love  you  and  I'll  trust  you  !  " 

But  here  Arthur  comes  between  them  and  says  :  "  As 
this  young  lady's  brother  I  ask  an  explanation  now!  You 
are  going — where  ? " 

"  To  Boulogne  !  "  replies  Errol  hoarsely. 


MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS.  189 

These  words  horrify  his  sweetheart  and  she  cries  out : 
M  To  Boulogne  ?  After  your  promise  ?  Why,  you  gave 
me  your  word  you  would  not  go  and  see  Lady  Sarah  !  " 

Now  this  makes  her  brother  white  with  rage,  and  he 
says  sneeringly  :  "  And  you  demeaned  yourself,  Ethel, 
to  ask  a  promise  that  would  not  have  been  necessary  if 
he  loved  you  ?  " 

To  this  insinuation  Errol  does  not  reply  ;  but  taking 
Arthur  aside  whispers  to  him  :  "  If  you  insist  on  knowing, 
that  book  on  your  father's  desk  will  tell  you  why  I  can 
not  speak  to  your  sister  ;  but  for  God's  sake  don't  tell 
her  !  "  then  turns  to  go. 

After  a  second's  search,  rinding  no  book,  for  Miss  Pot 
ter  has  dropped  it  on  the  floor,  Arthur  picks  up  the  tele 
graphic  message,  and  glancing  over  it,  cries  :  "  There's 
no  book  ! — but  this  telegram  from  Lady  Annerley,  which 
says  that  you  are  a  scoundrel  !  " 

"A  scoundrel  ? "  echoes  Errol,  coming  toward  him  ;  but 
Ethel  shrieks  :  "  No  !  no  !  "  and  gets  between  them,  while 
her  brother  addresses  her  in  these  words  :  "  My  sister, 
this  man  gained  your  love  !  Was  to-day  to  ask  your  father 
for  your  hand.  Yet  to-day  crosses  the  Channel  in  pursuit 
of  Lady  Annerley  and  her  money  !  This  telegram  proves 
it !  " 

Here  Ethel  gasps  out,  "  Charley  !  "  looking  unutterable 
reproach. 

This  look  maddens  both  the  brother  and  the  lover, 
and  passion  takes  the  place  of  judgment. 

"  Ethel,  don't  believe  him,"  mutters  Errol,  and  then 
shouts  out :  "  Arthur,  you'll  repent  this  !  " 

"  Then  speak  !  "  cries  the  brother. 

"  Tell  her  I  am 1  cannot!  " 

"  Then  neither  will  I  repent  THIS  !  "  and  with  his  glove 
he  slaps  the  Australian's  face.  Then  sneers  :  "  Are  you 
a  coward  ?  " 

For  the  mental  shock  of  this  terrible  insult  before  the 
woman  he  loves  has  staggered  Errol,  though  he  is  now 
growing  larger  and  his  eyes  are  beginning  to  have  the 
look  they  had  when  he  was  condemning  the  Armenian 
and  the  Greek  to  death  in  Egypt. 

"  No  !  "  he  cries  hoarsely,  and  springing  toward  Arthur 
there  might  have  been  murder  done  in  Judge  Lincoln's 
house  that  day.  But  almost  blinded  by  rage,  Errol  can 


19*  MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

still  see  the  face  of  his  lost   love  as  the  sinks  be* 

tween  him  and  his  foe  crying  piteously :  « Arthur,  my 
brother !  Charley,  my  lover  !  "  and  holds  her  little  hand? 
between  these  two  men  that  have  now  become  wild 
beasts.  Chastened  by  the  suffering  of  the  last  day  Errol 
looks  at  Arthur  and  makes  him  ashamed. 

For  he  gasps:   "You  ARE  HER  BROTHER!"    Then 
staggers  out  of  the  room  and  leaves  the  house. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

A   WESTERN   CYCLONE   STRIKES   MR.   VAN   COTT. 

VAN  COTT  has  suddenly  disappeared.  An  hour  or  so 
after  this  Arthur  leaves  also,  for  it  is  not  pleasant  to  be 
alone  in  the  house  with  a  sister  who,  instead  of  looking 
admiringly  and  lovingly  upon  her  protector  and  avenger, 
shudders^  and  says  :  "  You  struck  him  in  my  presence, 
and  he  did  not  return  the  blow  because  I  am  your  sister 
and  he  loved  me.  Ah  !  that  was  true  nobility  and  noble 
manhood  ! " 

At  these  times  her  eyes  are  so  reproachful  that  Arthur 
is  glad  to  get  away  from  them,  and  thinking  of  his  ab 
sent  sweetheart,  without  saying  a  word  to  Ethel  bolts  for 
Boulogne,  in  pursuit  of  Miss  Potter,  in  a  very  savage  and 
uncomfortable  humor. 

To  do  this  he  goes  via  Dover  and  Calais,  and  Miss 
Ethel  discovering  it  some  time  afterward,  becomes  im 
pressed  and  terrified  by  the  secresy  of  her  brother's 
movements.  She  thinks  he  has  gone  after  her  derelict 
Charley  to  bring  him  to  another  account  at  Lady  An- 
nerley's  in  Boulogne.  Desperately  fearing  that  these 
two  men  she  loves  will  do  each  other  mortal  injury  when 
unrestrained  by  her  presence,  poor  Ethel,  pale  with  terror 
and  chaperoned  by  the  old  family  housekeeper  that  she 
presses  into  her  service,  flies  to  Folkestone  and  then 
takes  a  tidal  steamer  for  Boulogne,  where  Lady  Annerley 
awaits  all  comers,  to  do  battle  for  Charley  Errol's  hand. 

So  it  comes  to  pass  that,  an  hour  and  three-quarters 
after  this,  landing  on  the  quay  at  that  town,  Miss  Ethel, 
with  a  trembling  voice,  accosts  the  Honorable  Sampson 
Potter.  He  has  strolled  down  to  watch  the  steamer  com« 


MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS.  Iff 

in,  having  failed  to  find  her  ladyship  at  home,  as,  expect* 
ing  Mr.  Errol's  arrival,  she  has  denied  herself  to  every* 
body  else. 

"  What's  the  matter,  little  one  ? "  asks  Potter,  who  sees 
in  the  girl's  pale  face  signs  of  the  trouble  and  misery  in 
.her  heart. 

"  Have  you  seen  anything  of  my  Cha — ,  I  mean  Mr, 
Errol  ?  I  am  afraid  they'll  meet,  and  oh  !  I  must  stop 
it. "  Here  Miss  Lincoln  can  say  no  more,  for  tears  choke 
her. 

But  being  petted  and  soothed  and  comforted  by  the 
old  Texan,  who,  like  most  good  men,  has  an  immense 
capacity  for  protecting  beauty  in  distress,  Miss  Ethel 
swallows  her  tears  and  gasps  :  "  Dear  Mr.  Potter,  can  I 
rely  on  your  aid  ?  " 

To  which  the  old  gentleman  replies  very  solemnly : 
"  As  if  you  was  my  own  darter  !  " 

Thus  assured,  dear  little  Ethel  tells  her  pathetic  story, 
emphasizing  its  passion  by  vivid  blushes  and  its  sadness 
by  tender  tears.  At  the  close,  as  she  tells  him  that  the 
two  young  men  had  a  fearful  quarrel,  and  her  brother 
struck  the  man  she  loves,  Mr.  Potter  horrifies  her,  for  he 
says  anxiously  :  "  Great  gosh  !  a  blow  passed — how  long 
ago  ? " 

"  Three  hours  !  " 

"  Then  it  can't  be  possible  that  both  can  be  alive!" 

"  Ah  !  you  know — / "  This  is  a  scream  of  agony 
from  Ethel,  who  fears  her  Arthur  and  her  Charley  have 
already  met  in  this  French  city,  where  the  duello  is  not 
yet  a  thing  of  the  past,  and  that  Mr.  Potter  has  seen  it. 

"  No,  I  know  nothin'  definite  !  "  says  Potter,  who  has 
a  very  serious  face.  "  But  a  blow  couldn't  pass  three 
hours  without  somebody  dying — not  in  Texas  !  " 

"  But  not  here  !  "  replies  Ethel.  "  Men  do  not  kill 
each  other  for  mere  blows  here  ! " 

"  Then  what  the  deuce  do  they  kill  each  other  for  ?" 
asks  the  Texan,  amazed. 

She  does  not  answer  this,  but  goes  on  very  earnestly  : 
"  You  must  save  them  from  themselves — your  daughter 
loves  one !  " 

Here  Mr.  Potter  starts  and  mutters  :  "  Good  heavens ! 
my  Ida  !  I  must  find  Arthur  before  an  accident—//  he'* 


§9*  MR.    POTTER   OF   TEX  A* 

"  You  don't  think  him  dead?  "  cries  Ethel,  for  the  ter« 
rible  manner  of  the  old  man  frightens  her. 

He  turns  away  his  face  and  doesn't  answer  her,  for  his 
thirty  odd  years  in  Texas  make  him  think  it  very  proba 
ble  that^  Arthur  is  dead.  As  he  says  :  "  When  one  young 
man  strikes  another  it's  a  tarnation  serious  business.  If 
possible  we  must  find  *em." 

"  They — they  came  to  Boulogne  ! " 

"  Then  they've  come  here  to—  We  must  find  'em  and 
stop  'em  afore — 

"  Before  what  ?  "  cries  Ethel. 

"  Afore  they  slaughter  each  other  !  "  And  before  Ethel 
knows  what  she  is  doing  he  has  her  in  a  carriage  and  is 
driving  at  racing  gait  up  the  quay  for  the  town,  not 
noticing  the  piteous  calls  of  her  chaperon,  whom  Potter 
has  left  astounded  and  terrified  upon  the  pier.  This  in 
dividual  now  follows  them  in  full  cry  ;  for  she  is  an  Eng 
lish  woman  who  has  never  been  out  of  England,  and  such 
women  usually  regard  the  French  as  barbarians  and  cut 
throats.  The  ride  is  a  short  one.  They  dash  up  the 
Quai  Bonaparte,  and  crossing  the  bridge  called  Du  Bar 
rage,  make  for  the  Hotel  des  Bains,  where  Mr.  Potter 
shrewdly  imagines  at  least  one  of  the  young  men  will  be 
found. 

Miss  Ethel  finds  time,  short  as  it  is  during  the  ride,  to 
whisper  to  the  old  man  who  sits  at  her  side  that  if  they 
fight,  her  Charley  will  surely  kill  her  brother,  for  the  girl 
has  heard  such  stories  from  Lady  Annerley  of  Errol's 
prowess  in  Egypt  that  she  thinks  her  hero  invincible. 

To  this  Mr.  Potter  replies,  trying  to  soothe  her— the 
girl  being  in  a  fearful  state  of  nervous  agitation— that  he's 
sized  up  Arthur,  and  that  he  looks  pretty  quick  on  the 
trigger. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  sobs,  "  but  no  one  would  resist  my 
Charley.  But  he  knows  I  love  my  brother.  I'll  sacrifice 
my  pride  and  beg  him  to  spare  Arthur,  for  if  they  fought 
I  should  be  lost  to  him  forever  !  " 

"  That's  a  prime  idea — if  he  loves  you  ! "  returns  Potter. 

"  If  he  loves  me  ?  "  and  there  is  so  much  trust  and  be- 
lief  m  the  girl's  eye  that  the  Texan  makes  no  more  sug 
gestions  of  that  kind,  though,  as  he  turns  the  affair  over 
in  his  mind,  he  becomes  gradually  convinced  that  Errol  is 
a  scoundrel  and  has  been  captivated  by  Lady  Annerley'f 


MR.   POTTER  OF  TEXAS*  193 

magnificent  beauty  ;  that  lady's  charms  having  made  a 
great  impression  upon  Mr.  Potter  the  day  before.  Car 
ried  away  with  his  subject  he  unconsciously  remarks  to 
himself:  "Oh,  these  widders,  these  young  and  plump 
widders,  they're  powerful  players  in  the  game  of  match- 
in'  ! " 

Which  gives  Miss  Ethel  another  spasm  of  blushes  and 
agony  and  shame,  for  unfortunately  she  hears  him,  and 
guesses  what  he  means. 

Arrived  at  the  Hdtel  des  Bains,  to  their  astonishment 
they  find  neither  Arthur  nor  Charley ;  but  after  looking 
about  the  office,  halls,  public  parlor,  and  every  place 
where  young  men  would  probably  be,  Mr.  Potter  encoun 
ters,  to  his  joy,  Lubbins,  the  ex-head-waiter  of  the  hotel 
at  Folkestone. 

That  worthy  has  just  reported  for  duty  to  Lady  An- 
nerley  upstairs,  and  been  deftly  pumped  by  her  of  all  he 
knew  of  what  occurred  to  Charley  Errol  and  his  father 
after  she  had  left  England  the  evening  before.  From 
him  she  has  learnt  enough  to  know  that  the  catastrophe 
she  has  prepared  has  taken  place  and  caused  the  man  she 
loved  misery  and  despair. 

Meager  as  Lubbins'  information  is.  it  has  left  Lady 
Annerley  in  a  fearful  state,  and  sne  is  now  in  her  parlor, 
at  one  moment  crying  to  herself  in  triumph :  "  The 
man  I  love  is  separated  from  the  woman  who  came  be 
tween  us  !  "  and  the  next  cursii  g  herself  for  the  misery 
she  has  brought  upon  her  idol,  or,  as  the  mood  takes  her, 
muttering :  "  I  will  make  amends  !  Charley,  when  you 
know  how  dearly  I  love  you,  you  will  forgive  me — even 
this  /  " 

Notwithstanding  this,  Lady  Annerley  has  no  thought  of 
repentance  and  confessing,  though  she  has  some  terror. 
She  has  been  reading  the  advertisement  in  the  Times  for 
Sammy  Potts,  the  office  boy  of  Jaffey  &  Stevens,  but 
upon  consideration  she  concludes  there  is  no  fear  of  his 
being  found  after  thirty  years'  disappearance  and  silence. 

After  a  moment's  examination,  to  be  quite  sure  of  his 
man,  Potter  cries  out  heartily  :  "  Hello,  Lubbins  !  what's 
made  you  a  Frenchman  ?  " 

To  which  Lubbins  replies,  with  an  obeisance,  that  he 
now  has  the  honor  to  be  in  Lady  Annerley's  service  ;  but 
that  her  ladyship  is  not  at  home  at  present,  for  Lubbins 

if 


-94  MR,   POTTER  OF   TEXAS. 

remembers  that  she  only  wishes  to  see  Mr.  Errol,  and  ii 
very  prompt  in  his  lies,  telling  some  of  them  before  he 
is  asked. 

"  All  right,"  says  Potter ;  "  now  I  want  you  to  make 
yourself  real  smart  and  useful,"  and  giving  him  a  do 
nation  he  takes  him  to  Miss  Lincoln  and  tells  him  to 
see  that  she  has  a  nice  little  dinner.  To  which  poor 
Ethel,  whom  misery  has  deprived  of  appetite,  says  ap- 
pealingly  :  "  Please,  nothing  for  me,  I  couldn't  eat 
now  !  " 

But  Potter  remarks  to  her,  affecting  sternness  :  "ISo 
man  nor  woman  can  do  honest  work  in  this  world^  unless 
their  stomach  and  vittals  is  comfortable.  Lubbins,  see- 
that  she  dines— get  waiters  !  I  don't  speak  this  French 
lingo,  and  find  myself  sometimes  out  a  leetle  in  address 
ing  the  natives." 

Then  he  takes  Miss  Ethel  aside  and  says :  "  You  stay 
here  to  head  off  either  of  'em  that  may  come  to  see 
Lady  Saharah,  and  I'll  go  out  and  track  'em,  and,  if  in 
this  neighborhood,  I'll  find  'em.  Don't  get  anxious  or 
be  skeered  of  her  ladyship,  and  you'll  come  out  right  side 
up  !  "  So  Mr.  Potter  starts  on  his  travels,  first  however 
telling  Lubbins  to  get  any  mortal  thing  the  young  lady 
wants  and  chalk  up  the  damage  to  him. 

Taking  a  bearing  by  the  sun,  after  the  method  common 
to  cattle-men,  Mr.  Potter  lays  his  course  up  the  quay 
and  toward  the  bridge  leading  to  the  railway  station,  as 
he  imagines,  by  some  chance,  neither  of  the  young  men 
has  as  yet  arrived. 

This  is  true  as  regards  Arthur,  who  has  taken  a  longer 
route,  and  the  train  from  Calais  has  just  deposited  him  in 
Boulogne.  Coming  out  of  the  station  he  meets,  to  his 
astonishment,  their  old  housekeeper  from  Channel  View, 
that  Miss  Ethel  has  taken  as  her  chaperon.  She  has 
followed  Mr.  Potter's  carriage  to  this  point,  and  is  now 
making  up  her  mind  in  what  direction  to  continue  her 
movements.  The  woman  is  decidedly  uneasy  in  the 
jabbering  foreign  crowd,  and  hails  Mr.  Arthur's  unex 
pected  appearance  with  exuberant  joy.  She  hurriedly 
tells  her  young  master  of  Miss  Ethel's  sudden  journey 
to  this  place,  at  which  Arthur's  face  assumes  almost  a 
sneer,  though  it  is  a  very  angry  one  ;  for  he  imagines  his 
lister  has  thrown  away  her  pride  and  come  in  pursuit  of 


MR.   POTTER  OP  TEXAS. 

her  recreant  swain,  to  plead  with  him  to  give  her  back 

the  affection  which  Lady  Annerley  has  stolen. 

"  Come  with  me,  I  know  where  to  find  her !  "  he  cries 
hoarsely,  and  followed  by  the  woman,  is  soon  over  the 
Pont  du  Barrage,  and  before  he  is  aware  almost  into 
Mr.  Potter's  arms.  This  gentleman  cries  out :  "  Hello, 
sonny ! "  and  pounces  upon  Arthur  with  such  effusion 
that  the  young  man  gasps  under  his  treatment :  "  One 
would  think  I  had  risen  from  the  dead." 

"  And  so  you  have.  I'd  given  you  up  for  gone.  Many's 
the  fine  young  face  I've  seen  go  under  the  prahairie 
sod  to  the  pop  of  a  six-shooter  out  in  Texas.  Ah,  this 
duhello  !  the  duhello  is  a  nasty  business  !  " 

"  What  makes  you  think  I'm  going  to  fight  a  duel  ? " 
asks  Arthur. 

"  Now  it's  no  good  putting  on  hinnocence,"  returns 
Potter.  "  Your  sister  told  me  hall,"  and  he  gives  the 
young  man  a  synopsis  of  what  Miss  Ethel  has  said  to 
him,  and  telling  the  housekeeper,  who  has  been  staring 
at  him,  where  she  will  find  her  mistress,  drags  Arthur 
into  a  neighboring  cafe  and  wine  shop. 

Here  he  says  sternly  :  "  Now,  my  boy,  if  you  want  my 
darter  I  ain't  agoing  to  have  you  risk  making  her  a 
widder  in  feelings  before  she  gets  a  husband  in  reality. 
Arthur,  you  mustn't  fight  him  !  " 

"  I've  been  thinking  of  that  matter,  Mr.  Potter,  and 
have  determined  to  see  Mr.  Errol  again  and  ask  an  ex 
planation,  and  if  wrong — "  here  the  young  man  hesitates, 
but  Potter  puts  the  distasteful  word  into  his  mouth.  He 
says :  "  Hapologize  !  Hapologize  !  That's  right,  my  son. 
But,  Arthur,  it  seems  a  needless  question  to  ask,  but  here 
people  are  so  curious.  Are  you  harmed  ?  " 

"  Armed?" 

"  Yes,  harmed,  well  harmed  !  'Ave  you  a  self-cocker  ? 
A  man  is  only  half  a  man  without  a  self-cocker,  nowa 
days.  If  you're  quick  on  the  trigger,  it  gives  you  the 
drop  ! " 

"  I  never  carried  a  pistol  in  my  life  !  " 

"  And  you  struck  him  and  wasn't  harmed  ?  Great 
gosh,  how  rash  !  "  Mr.  Potter  rolls  his  eyes  in  awful  as 
tonishment. 

"  Would  you  have  had  me  stand  by  and  see  the  an 
guish  in  my  sister's  eyes,  and  let  the  scoundrel  who  had 


MR.   POTTER  OF  TEXAS. 

won  her  heart  pass  away  to  pursue  this  widow,  unpun 
ished  ? "  cries  Arthur,  working  himself  up  into  a  raga 
again  at  the  remembrance  of  Ethel's  wrongs. 

"And  he  did  that?  Why  he  wouldn't  be  let  live — 
not  in  Texas  !  "  Here  Mr.  Potter  becomes  excited  also 
and  cries  enthusiastically  :  "  Arthur,  if  you  hadn't  hit 
him,  you  shouldn't  have  my  darter  !  "  Then  he  thinks 
of  what  Ethel  has  said,  and  mutters  :  "  Still,  you  may 
have  been  hasty.  Your  sister  believes  he  loves  her  !  " 

"  Then  why  did  he  refuse  to  speak  ?  No,  I  know  I  am 
right ! " 

"  Then  don't  apologize !  Harm  yourself.  For  my 
darter's  sake,  harm  yourself  at  once  !  "  and  Potter's  voice 
becomes  pathetic  as  he  whispers  :  "  Don't  let  him  see 
you  before  you're  harmed  ;  go  and  get  a  gun  at  once ! 
Promise  me,  as  you  love  my  darter,  to  go  and  get  a  gun 
at  once  !  " 

Thinking  to  pacify  the  old  man,  who  is  now  so  anxious 
for  his  safety,  Arthur  gives  the  promise  and  turns  to  go; 
but  Potter  runs  after  him,  and  mutters :  "  He  may  be 
laying  for  you.  I  once  knew  a  chap  as  was  perforated 
while  he  was  buying  his  pistol.  Take  mine  !  "  And  forces 
into  Arthur's  hand  the  terrible  weapon  that  he  habitually 
carries. 

"  I  don't  expect  such  immediate  danger.  This  is  Eu 
rope,"  mutters  the  Englishman,  who  thinks  from  the  size 
of  the  revolver  it  will  be  nearly  as  inconvenient  to  carry 
as  a  cannon. 

"  You  shall  take  it ! "  commands  Potter.  "  Take  a 
fine  sight  and  it's  certain  death.  And  if  you  see  him 
coming  for  you  with  a  double-barreled  shotgun,  don't 
let  him  get  nearer  than  seventy-five  yards  ;  take  a  rest, 
and  this  is  good  for  a  hundred.  Take  that  pistol^  Do 
you  suppose  I  could  look  my  Ida  in  the  face  if  I'd  let 
you  go  out  to  be  potted  without  a  gun  ?  " 

"  Your  daughter — have  you  not  seen  her  ?   She's  here  ! " 

"  In  Boulogne  ?  Did  she  come  over  to  stop  the  fight, 
too  ?  " 

"  No.  She  came  before  the  quarrel.  She  wrote  me 
it  was  for  your  sake  !  " 

"  Ah  !  she  can't  keep  away  from  her  daddy  now  phe's 
got  him  again  !  "  cries  Potter,  delighted.  "  She's  proba 
bly  at  my  hotel  I  told  her  I'd  stop  at  the  Pavilion.  It's  a 


MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  IQ1 

good  way  out  of  town,  and  city  noises  bother  me  at  nights. 
Take  that  pistol,  or  I  sha'n't  be  easy  about  you,  and  go  up 
and  see  that  Errol,  and  if  he  don't  come  to  terms,  let 
daylight  through  him  !  " 

Thus  adjured  Arthur  goes  out  toward  the  Hotel  dcs 
Bains,  leaving  Potter,  for  the  first  t'.me  in  thirty  years, 
without  a  "gun  "  in  his  pocket. 

A  moment  after  this  the  Texan  remembers  himself  and 
mutters  :  "  Here  I  have  been  exciting  Arthur  to  homicide 
when  I  should  have  been  doing  a  parson's  work  and 
pouring  ile  on  the  troubled  waters.  Potter,  you  ain't 
to  be  trusted.  This  'ere  cowboy  spirit  will  rise  up  in 
you  and  must  be  put  down.  You  make  those  boys  shake 
hands  ! " 

Actuated  by  this  motive  he  runs  out  into  the  street, 
but  to  his  disgust  is  pounced  upon  by  little  Van  Cott, 
who  prances  up  to  him  in  quite  an  unusual  state  of  ex 
citement,  calling  :  "  I've  been  looking  for  you,  my  dear 
Mr.  Pottah  !  "  Then  having  got  alongside  of  him,  lan 
guidly  holds  out  a  feeble  hand,  and  lisps  :  "  Ta-ta  !  " 

After  a  moment's  pause  of  astonishment,  Mr.  Potter 
mutters  to  himself,  savagely  :  "  Oh,  it's  the  dude  !  "  and 
then  says  aloud  gruffly  :  "  Oh  !  it's  you,  is  it  ? " 

"Yas*  I've  been  looking  for  you  everywhere.  Your 
daughter  told  me  to  see  you.  Ta-ta,  my  boy,  ta-ta !  " 
goes  on  little  Van  Cott,  quite  excited  and  very  happy. 

"  My  daughter  sent  you  to  see  me  ? " 

"  Yas.  She  desired  me  to  awh — interview  you — to  awh 
— demand  her  hand  in  marriage." 

"  In  marriage?  "  glares  Potter,  his  eyes  rolling  in  sav 
age  astonishment.  "Ye  ain't  lying  to  me,  ye  little 
imp  !  " 

<••  No — it's  true.    'Pon  honor,  it's  true  !  " 

And  so  curiously  enough  it  is.  For  poor  little  Van  Cott, 
having  learned  that  Miss  Potter  had  left  Channel  View 
hurriedly,  has  imagined  that  it  must  be  on  account  of  some 
break  with  Arthur.  Thinking  that  probably  he  may  now 
stand  a  chance  of  success  with  the  American  heiress,  lie 
has  followed  her  rapidly  to  Dover.  Being  fortunate  in 
catching  an  express  train,  he  has  overtaken  Ida  at  that 
place  and  journeyed  to  Boulogne  via  Calais  in  her  com 
pany  ;  though  she  has  protested  at  his  coming,  but  in 
rather  a  half-hearted  way,  because  her  mind  has  been  so 


198  MR.   POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 

occupied  and  troubled  by  the  curious  discovery  she  has 
made  in  Lord  Lincoln's  library  in  regard  to  her  father. 

The  little  chap  is  bent  on  pleasing  her,  and  finally,  for 
his  antics  are  quite  as  amusing  as  a  monkey's,  the  girl 
gives  him  a  melancholy  smile  or  two,  which  so  encour 
ages  him  that  on  the  train  between  Calais  and  Boulogne 
Van  Cott  actually  asks  her  to  marry  him,  calling  her  his 
"  deah  gal  !  "  "  his  floweret  of  the  West,"  and  other  en 
dearing  terms  that  put  MioS  Potter  in  a  fearful  rage. 

She  becomes  so  malicious  that  a  diabolically  cruel 
idea  strikes  her.  She  gives  Van  Cott  a  grin  that  is 
almost  a  scowl,  and  says  to  him  :  "  Sir,  the  man  who 
wishes  my  hand  must  first  apply  to  my  father  ! " 

"  Oh,  rapture,  my  own  love  !  "  cries  Van  Cott  in  de 
light,  and  would,  filled  with  ardor  and  joy,  embel 
lish  his  suit  with  some  little  practical  caresses,  but  there 
is  something  in  Miss  Potter's  eye  that  stops  him. 
So  postponing  his  Romeo  attitude  for  the  present, 
Mr.  Van  Cott,  on  arriving  at  Boulogne,  cries  :  "I'll  see 
papa,  deah — won't  keep  you  waiting  long,  pet !  "  and 
starts  in  pursuit  of  the  paternal  Potter,  while  the  young 
lady  looks  after  his  retreating  figure,  and  grimly  wonders 
how  much  there  will  be  left  of  the  creature  after  Sampson 
has  finished  with  him. 

On  Mr.  Van  Cott's  declaration  Potter  stares  at  him  a 
second  in  unbelief,  and  then  says  hoarsely  :  "  'Ello,  here's 
more  bad  luck."  The  next  instant  the  little  chap  thinks 
a  locomotive  has  seized  him,  for  Potter  grabs  him  by  the 
collar,  and  runs  him  through  the  wine-shop  and  into  a 
little  private  room  at  the  rear  of  it  where  there  is  a  small 
table  and  chair  or  two,  and  sinking  into  one  of  these 
gasps  out  at  him  :  "  'Tain't  possible  !  " 

"  Yas,  perfectly  possible.  She  has  at  last  brought  me 
to  book  !  But  I  wish  you'd  be  more  careful  of  my  cuffs, 
they're  quite  crumpled,"  returns  Van  Cott,  who  imagines 
that  Potter's  "  'Tain't  possible  !  "  means  that  he  cannot 
believe  in  such  good  news. 

"  Never  mind  your  gewgaws,"  says  the  Texan.  "  It's 
quiet  and  retired  here.  Tell  me  all  about  it — and  if  it 
ain't  the  truth " 

Here  Mr.  Potter's  jaws  snap  ominously,  for  he  can't 
believe  that  his  daughter  would  have  sent  any  one  to 
him  on  such  an  errand,  she  being  engaged  to  Arthur 


MR.    POTTER    OF   TEXAS.  199 

Lincoln  ;  least  of  all  this  little  creature,  whom  he  now 
regards  as  an  abomination. 

"  Oh,  yas  !  it's  all  settled.  She  brought  me  over  as  net 
escort  to  Boulogne." 

"  You  don't  say  !  "  interjects  Potter  grimly,  and  then 
mutters,  looking  at  the  mass  of  good  clothes  and  fine 
linen  standing  before  him  :  li  She  must  have  been  hard 
up  for  a  young  man  !  " 

"  Now,"  goes  on  Van  Cott,  who  doesn't  seem  to  see  that 
the  paternal  Potter  is  in  a  very  savage  and  un-Christian 
condition  of  mind,  "  I  presume  you'll  make  the  settle 
ments  all  right.  You  know  I'm  brother-in-law  to  Lord 
Sandsdown,  and  we  old  families  always  expect  new  ones 
to  do  the  liberal  !  " 

"  And  my  darter  consented  to  marry  you  ?  "  grunts  the 
old  man,  who  still  will  not  believe. 

"Well,  not  exactly  yet  ;  but  she  told  me  to  come  to 
you  and  you'd  fix  the  matter  with  me." 

"  And  so  I  will  !  "  And  a  grim  smile  illuminates  the 
scarred  and  battle-seared  features  of  the  frontier  warrior. 

"  But  from  her  manner,  Ida " 

"  The  Honorable  Miss  Potter,  sir  !  "  This  correction  is 
emphasized  by  such  a  tremendous  thump  on  the  little 
table  that  an  empty  bottle  and  some  glasses  upon  it 
dance  a  jig,  and  several  waiters  come  to  the  door  expect 
ing  an  order,  but  the  appearance  of  Mr.  Potter  is  such 
that  they  all  go  away  again  without  saying  a  word. 

"  Of  course,  the  Honorable  Miss  Potter,"  says  Sidney, 
rather  nervously  now,  "  would  be  pleased  to  marry  into  a 
family  like  mine  !  " 

"  She  would,  would  she  ?  Are  you  American  or  are 
you  English,  Mr.  B.  Sidney  Van  Cott  ?  " 

"  By  birth,  unfortunately,  I  am  partially  American  ; 
but  by  association  and  marriage  English,  decidedly  Eng 
lish  ;  my  sister  married  a  lord.  But  my  exact  national 
ity  would  require  consideration — I  will  meditate  upon 
it!" 

"  Then  I'll  tell  you  without  meditation,"  cries  Potter. 
"  You  is  a  nobody  from  nowhar.  That's  what  you  is  !  " 

"  Sir,  please  be  calm  !  "  murmurs  Van  Cott,  edging  to 
ward  the  door. 

"  You  is  ashamed  to  be  Hamerican  and  you  hain't 
Henglish ! "  yells  Potter,  beside  himself  with  rage.  "And 


200  MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS. 

you  'ad  the  impertinence  to  think  the  Honorable  Miss 
Ida  Potter  of  Comanche  County,  Texas,  would  marry  a 
mixture  of  nothings  like  you  !  " 

"  Sir,  this  insult " 

"  That's  right,  now  you're  talking  up  to  me.  Now 
we'll  get  to  business  soon  ! "  says  Potter,  the  light  of 
battle  coming  into  his  eye.  "  Yes,  it  is  an  insult  for  you 
to  put  your  no-nation  eyes  on  a  praharie  flower  like  the 
Honorable  Miss  Ida  Potter." 

"  Is  it  ?  "  cries  Van  Cott,  who  has  got  very  angry  and 
like  most  men  has  some  kind  of  courage  in  his  blood 
when  roused.  "  You're  a  nice  man  to  talk  to  me!"  and 
he  flashes  out  and  gives  Mr.  Potter  his  opinion  of  him, 
telling  him  how  vulgar  he  is  and  that  he  can't  speak  the 
English  language,  and  has  come  over  here  to  humiliate 
his  daughter. 

At  this,  Potter  cries  out,  very  hoarsely  and  tremb 
lingly  :  "  My  God  !  you — you  don't  think  she's  ashamed 
of  me — her  daddy."  And  wipes  his  eyes  that  have  got  red 
at  the  thought,  but  goes  on  very  humbly  that  he  knows 
the  difference  between  himself  and  his  darling  Ida,  and 
that  if  he  thought  his  presence  had  hurt  her  feelings  or 
humiliated  her  among  the  grand  folks  she  was  running 
with,  he'd  go  back  to  Texas,  where  people  honored  him. 
Then  bursts  out :  "  Don't  I  know  she's  as  far  above  me 
as  the  sun's  above  the  earth  ?  Don't  I  groan  at  not  being 
up  to  her  level  all  the  time  ?  "  and  tears  coming  into 
the  old  man's  eyes,  he  blubbers  like  a  baby,  for  Mr.  Van 
Cott  has  found  the  only  flaw  in  Potter's  armor. 

"  Yes,  and  you  refused  me,  when  I  would  pick  her  up 
out  of  the  gutter  and  make  your  daughter  a  lady  !  "  says 
Van  Cott  very  pompously,  who  now  thinks  he  has  found 
the  whip-hand  of  Potter,  and  begins  to  be  very  high  and 
mighty  with  him. 

"•Pick  my  daughter  out  of  the  gutter?  MAKE  Miss 
POTTER  A  LADY  !  "  This  is  a  scream  like  that  of  a  cata 
mount  from  her  father,  and  with  it  comes  a  new  and 
awful  light  into  the  Texan's  eyes  at  the  slur  upon  his  god 
dess.  He  doesn't  speak  loud  any  more,  but  says  very 
quietly  :  "  Young  man,  don't  speak  of  my  darter,  if  you 
love  your  life  !  You'd  better  go  away  !  " 

This  look  makes  Van  Cott  nervous. 

"  I'll — I'll   send   a   friend   to — to  you — to   explain  !  " 


MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXASw  fOl 

mutters  Sidney,  who  thinks  he  had  better  be  going  and 
gets  nearer  the  door. 

"  A  friend  !  that's  right !  that's  spunky  !  "  echoes  Pot 
ter.  "  That's  well  said  !  " 

Thus  encouraged,  Van  Cott  thinks,  perhaps,  the  old 
man  is  simply  testing  his  courage,  and  says,  returning 
a  step  and  trying  to  look  threatening  :  "  I  would  chastise 
you,  sir,  but " 

"  CHASTISE  ME  !  " 

"  I'd  fight  you,  but  the  duello  is  nowadays  obsolete- " 

"  NOT  IN  TEXAS  !  "  says  Potter,  and  looking  at  Mr.  Van 
Cott  to  be  sure  he  doesn't  get  the  drop  on  him,  he 
reaches  back  and  for  the  first  time  in  thirty  years  finds 
that  he  hasn't  got  a  "  gun."  Then,  being  a  man  of  light 
ning  thought,  cries  :  "  Ah,  would  you  !  "  and  the  next 
instant  poor  little  Van  Cott  thinks  himself  in  the  grasp  of 
a  hurricane,  and  gives  a  shriek  of  horror,  for  he  finds 
himself  flying  through  the  air  out  of  the  window,  which  is 
open,  the  day  being  mild,  into  the  back-yard  of  the  place, 
where  he  lands  upon  a  manure  heap,  to  the  salvation  of 
his  bones  and  ruin  of  his  garments.  Potter  grimly  looks 
at  him  as  he  struggles  among  the  hens  and  fowls,  who 
make  quite  a  row  at  his  intrusion,  and  mutters  :  "  The 
little  varmint !  He  was  going  to  wing  me  with  a  derrin 
ger  through  his  pants  !  "  For  Van  Cott  had  unfortunately 
at  the  critical  moment  put  his  hand  into  his  pocket, 
reaching  for  a  handkerchief  with  which  to  wipe  his  eyes, 
which  were  watery  with  impotent  rage  and  passion. 

After  a  second's  consideration  Potter  mutters  :  "  That 
nothing  has  made  me  so  fightin'  mad.  I  feel  just  as  if  I 
was  back  in  Texas.  '  Pick  my  daughter  out  of  the  gut 
ter  !  Make  Miss  Potter  a  lady  ! '  I'll  fix  myself  at  once  !  " 
Then  making  for  the  first  gun  store  he  sees,  he  selects 
with  great  care  a  murderous-looking,  old-style  Colt's  re 
volver,  fired  by  old-fashioned  percussion  caps. 

The  Frenchman  who  waits  on  him  speaks  a  little  Eng 
lish,  as  do  most  tradesmen  in  Boulogne,  the  town  haying 
so  many  Anglo-Saxon  inhabitants  and  so  much  British 
trade.  To  this  man  Mr.  Potter  explains  that  he  never 
uses  cartridges,  as  he  don't  trust  his  life  to  the  careless 
ness  of  New  England  factory  gals,  and  he  likes  to  know 
what's  in  his  gun  when  he  pulls  the  trigger.  Then,  load 
ing  the  weapon  carefully,  he  goes  into  a  little  shooting 


*0*      ,  MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 

gallery  attached  to  the  shop  and  proceeds  to  test  it ;  and 
finally  getting  the  pistol  sighted  to  his  liking  makes  such 
wonderful  practice  upon  the  projecting  pipes,  hanging 
balls  and  jingling  bells  with  which  the  place  is  adorned, 
that  the  proprietor  rushes  excitedly  into  the  street,  and 
telling  his  neighbors  of  the  wonderful  shot  that  is  in  his 
gallery,  the  place  is  soon  filled  with  a  little  crowd  of  ad 
miring  spectators. 

Among  them  chances  Sergeant  Brackett,  who  has  just 
come  over  to  Boulogne,  followed  by  his  faithful  Snapper. 
This  pistol  practice  of  Mr.  Potter  impresses  the  detective 
greatly,  for  he  has  been  amusing  himself  with  a  copy  of 
Solomon  Sure-eye,  the  Dead  Shot  of  the  West,  and  the 
Texan's  feats  with  the  pistol  remind  him  of  the  redoubt 
able  Sure-eye's  tremendous  efforts  with  firearms  at  op 
posing  gamblers,  cowboys,  and  red-skins.  Little  Snapper 
also  enjoys  it,  for  he  barks  so  furiously  and  wags  his  tail 
so  joyously  at  every  report,  that  Potter's  attention  is  at 
tracted  to  the  tiny  but  vivacious  creature.  He  asks  the 
dog's  name,  and  on  being  told  pats  him  on  the  head  and 
yells  :  "  Hi,  Snapper !  Rats  !  "  and  laughing  at  the  ani 
mal's  desperate  search  for  the  same,  gets  into  a  con- 
versat'on  with  Brackett  about  his  little  pet. 

Brackett,  proud  of  his  noticing  the  animal,  tells 
him  several  anecdotes  of  Snapper's  acuteness  and  faith 
fulness,  how  he  has  scented  him  out  in  all  kinds  of 
places.  That  once  on  a  job,  when  he  was  shadowing 
a  man  suspected  of  craclyng  a  till  in  Birmingham,  the 
cunning  cove  inveigled  him  into  a  vacant  house  and 
locked  him  in,  and  would  have  got  away ;  but  Snapper  was 
on  the  outside,  and  set  up  such  a  yelling  and  scratching 
that  the  neighborhood  was  aroused  and  let  him  out  just 
in  time  to  nab  his  man  boarding  a  train  for  Liverpool. 
"  But  I  must  be  going,  sir — business — sarvant,  Mr.  Pot 
ter,"  and  Brackett,  who  fears  he  has  lingered  too  long, 
starts  off  in  search  of  Mr.  Errol. 

Looking  after  him,  the  Texan  mutters:  "From  his 
talk  that  fellow's  a  detective.  Yes,  and  a  cursed  poor 
one,  too  !  Knew  my  name — but  that's  natural  ;  I'm  gin- 
erally  pretty  wall  celebrated  wharever  I  am." 

So  Mr.  Potter  goes  to  shooting  again  and  takes  an 
other  pistol,  and  getting  to  his  work  with  a  revolver  in 
either  hand,  makes  such  a  breakage  about  the  gallery 


MR.    POTTER   OF    T1JXAS. 

that  the  proprietor  wishes  to  engage  him  to  give  a  public 
exhibition. 

This  last  is  witnessed  for  a  moment  by  poor  Van  uott, 
who  has  telegraphed  for  more  clothes.  Hearing  the  noise 
he  looks  in  for  a  moment,  and  seeing  Mr.  Potter  split  a 
card  flies  away  for  his  life,  and  skulks  about  in  the  re 
mote  parts  of  the  town  till  it  is  time  for  him  to  catch 
the  Paris  train.  He  thinks  Potter  will  not  be  apt  to  find 
him  in  that  big  city.  During  this  time  little  Van  Cott 
trembles  and  has  cold  sweats,  and  dodges  hastily  around 
corners,  for  he  imagines  this  target  practice  is  for  him 
and  he  murmurs  wofully  to  himself  :  "  My  Gad,  he  11 
shoot  me  with  a  pistol !  " 

The  revolvers  suiting  him,  Mr.  Potter  thinks  he  will 
take  them  both,  and  buckling  them  on  to  him  remarks  : 
"  In  deference  to  the  decrees  of  society,  since  I  came  over 
here  I've  only  worn  one  gun  and  felt  but  half  a  man  ; 
now  I'm  two-handed  again.  I  feel  as  if  I  war  in  Texas 
and  going  on  the  war-path  !  "  Which  coming  out  of  the 
shop  he  does,  and  at  the  Hfitel  des  Bains  encounters  for 
his  first  opponent  a  woman  who,  on  the  very  first  round, 
discomforts  and  figuratively  rescalps  Mr.  Potter,  nearly 
wounding  him  to  death. 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

WHICH    LOVES    HIM   BEST. 

LEAVING  Mr.  Van  Cott  at  the  railway  station  in  Bou 
logne  to  discover  and  disclose  his  matrimonial  intentions 
to  Mr.  Potter,  Ida  has  taken  a  carriage  to  drive  to  the 
Hotel  du  Pavillion.  As  it  is  on  the  sea,  and  distant  from 
the  main  part  of  the  town  this  occupies  some  little  time. 
Her  father,  on  leaving  Lord  Lincoln's  house,  had  told  her 
that  he  would  probably  stop  at  this  hotel,  especially  if  he 
remained  over  night  in  France  ;  consequently  she  expects 
to  find  him  here.  The  clerk  informs  her  very  politely  that 
her  father  has  honored  them  with  his  patronage  and  en 
gaged  a  room,  for  Miss  Potter's  name  is  well  known  in 
this  fashionable  caravansary.  Having  shown  her  to  a 
parlor,  the  young  lady  spends  a  quiet  hour  awaiting  the 
Honorable  Sampson's  return :  for  the  season  is  at  its 


204  MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS. 

close  and  the  house  nearly  deserted  by  the  devotees  of 
fashionable  salt  water. 

During  this  time  of  waiting  an  agony  of  curiosity  as 
well  as  dread  is  in  the  girl.  Every  time  she  looks  at  the 
marked  sovereign  that  dangles  upon  her  white  wrist 
she  wonders  why  these  coins,  which  had  driven  the  father 
of  poor  Charley  Errol  a  convict  from  the  land  of  his  birth, 
should  be  considered  by  her  father  a  signal  of  his  success 
in  the  world.  For  Mr.  Potter  wears  a  duplicate  piece  upon 
his  watch-chain,  and  she  knows  her  brother,  the  lieu 
tenant  in  the  navy,  has  another,  which  the  Honorable 
Sampson  had  given  him  and  told  him,  "  to  clinch  to 
for  luck  !  "  Then,  thinking  of  the  indictment  for  felony 
hanging  over  the  office  boy  who  disappeared  the  day 
Errol  was  arrested,  and  who  she  now  is  convinced  is  her 
father,  by  an  involuntary  movement  she  is  about  to  con 
ceal  the  coin,  and  has  even  taken  off  the  bracelet  to  hide 
it  from  view.  But  here  an  invincible  pride  comes  to  her, 
and  she  feels  it  would  be  a  slur  upon  her  parent,  and 
mutters  to  herself  :  u  Thank  Heaven,  I  love  my  father  too 
much  to  doubt  him  !  My  father  a  thief  ?  Impossible  !  " 
With  this  she  puts  on  the  bracelet  again  so  that  it  is 
very  prominent  and  everybody  can  see  it,  and  flashes  the 
sovereign  in  the  air  to  attract  notice,  and  thinks  to  herself  : 
'  That's  confidence  in  my  father's  honor  !  " 

But  tired  at  length  of  delay  Miss  Potter  at  last  makes 
up  her  mind  to  search  for  Mr.  Potter  in  the  town  itself. 
She  orders  a  carriage  and  says  to  the  driver  :  "Hotel  des 
Bains"  for  she  imagines  the  Honorable  Sampson  has 
found  his  call  upon  Lady  Annerley  so  pleasant  he  has 
prolonged  it.  She  knows  what  a  tender  spot  the  pa 
ternal  Potter  has  for  pretty  women,  and  that  he  had  been 
greatly  impressed  with  the  widow's  magnificent  beauty 
the  day  before. 

Consequently,  a  few  minutes  after  Mr.  Potter  had  left 
that  hostelry  in  pursuit  of  Arthur,  his  daughter  goes  into 
the  Hotel  des  Bains,  and  finding  Lubbins  in  the  hall,  tells 
him  to  take  her  card  up  to  Lady  Annerley  in  a  tone  which 
makes  that  servitor  forget  to  lie  and  say  her  ladyship  is 
not  at  home.  Walking  into  the  public  parlor  to  await 
the  answer,  Miss  Potter  finds  poor  little  Ethel,  who  hasn't 
been  able  to  eat  any  dinner,  and  who,  in  answer  to  the 
American  girl's  cry  of  astonished  surprise,  runs  to  her  and 


MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  205 

murmurs  with  trembling  lips  :  "  You  are  in  Boulogne  on 
the  same  errand  as  I  !  " 

"  What  errand? "  says  Miss  Potter,  more  astonished. 
Here  Ethel  adds  to  her  surprise,  for  she  returns  :    "  To 
prevent  the  man  that  I  love  and  the  man  that  you  Jove 
meeting  each  other  with  deathly  hate  in  their  hearts. " 

This  speech,  coupled  with  the  girl's  manner  and  ap 
pearance,  frightens  Ida.  She  cries  out  :  "  What  do  you 
mean  ?  I  cannot  understand  you  !  Quick  !  tell  me  ! 
What  new  complication—  '  and  gets  a  shock.  For 
Ethel  gives  her  a  short  account  of  the  quarrel  be 
tween  the  two  young  men,  and  at  the  end  dismays 
her,  for  she  says  :  "  Then  my  brother  struck  the  man 
I  love." 

"  And  Mr.  Errol — what  did  he  do  to  the  man  that  / 
love  ?  "  comes  from  Miss  Potter's  pale  lips. 

And  she  trembles,  for  she  knows  the  awful  ending  that 
such  affairs  have  in  Texas,  and  the  memories  of  her  youth 
come  home  to  her. 

"  He  held  his  hand  and  did  not  return  the  blow." 
"  God  bless  him  for  that !  "  cries  Ida. 
"  Because  he  said  the  man  you  love  was  my  brother  ! 
"  How  truly  noble  !  "  murmurs  the  girl  then  and  she 
exclaims  :  "  But  I  will  repay  him  for  it  all,  this  very  day  ! 
and  after  a  moment  inquires  if  Arthur  is  surely  in  Bou 
logne. 

Which  being  answered   affirmatively,  she  tells   Ethel 
that  she  must  stay  at  this  hotel  and  keep  Mr.  Errol,  who 
will  certainly  call  upon  Lady  Annerley. 
"  You  think  he  will  visit  her  now?" 
This  last  is  so  pathetic  that  Miss  Potter  says  very  im 
pressively  to  the  girl :  "  It  is  because  he  loves  you,  Ethel 
Lincoln  ;   never  doubt  that  Charley  Errol  loves  you.     I 
will  find  and  bring  your  brother  here,  and  he^  shall  apolo 
gize  to  a  noble  gentleman  for  a  cruel  wrong." 
3  "  You   think   my  Charley  noble  ? "  asks   Miss  Ethel, 
brightening  up  at  the  comfort  of  these  words. 

"  I  know  it.  Noble  because  he  loves  you  well,  but 
loves  his  word  to  your  father  and  his  honor  as  a  gentle 
man  better." 

This  is  the  kind  of  consolation  Miss  Lincoln  likes, 
praise  for  her  hero.  She  says  purringly  :  "  Thank  you  I 
You  like  my  Charley  ?  " 


»o6  MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

"  I  love  him  !  " 

"O-o-oh!" 

"  As  a  brother  !  "  returns  Miss  Potter,  with  a  faint 
smile  on  her  face,  hurriedly  going  out  in  pursuit  of  Arthur. 
For  she  is  exceedingly  anxious  for  her  fianct  to  make 
amends  for  his  injustice  to  Mr.  Errol  and  put  a  stop  to 
an  affair  that  belongs  to  a  class  of  which  her  Texan  mem 
ories  give  her  even  now  a  trembling  horror. 

In  her  hurry  Ida  entirely  forgets  the  card  she  has 
dispatched  to  Lady  Annerley,  and  that  lady  being  rather 
surprised  at  her  visit,  and  thinking  the  American  girl 
may  have  some  information  about  Charley  Errol's  move 
ments,  makas  up  her  mind  to  see  her.  Reserving  her 
own  private  parlor  in  which  to  receive  Mr.  Errol  when 
he  arrives,  she  comes  downstairs  into  the  public  one, 
expecting  to  see  Miss  Potter.  For  a  moment  she  looks 
about  the  room,  and  finding  no  one  apparently  in  it,  goes 
toward  a  bay  window  at  the  end  of  the  apartment. 
There  to  her  astonishment  she  conies  upon  Miss  Ethel, 
who,  seeing  her  enemy,  and  being  reassured  by  Miss  Pot 
ter's  words,  prepares  for  the  combat ;  though  it  is  very 
much  like  a  female  dove  pluming  herself  and  sharpen 
ing  her  mild  beak  to  do  battle  with  the  magnificent  but 
naughty  hawk.  For  Lady  Annerley  is  in  a  toilet  de 
signed  for  the  insnaring  of  Mr.  Errol,  and  is  an  alluring 
mixture  of  black  satin,  sparkling  diamonds,  dazzling 
neck,  white  arms  and  flashing  eyes  ;  and  Miss  Ethel's 
now  pathetic  beauty  and  pretty  but  modest  traveling 
dress  are  by  no  means  so  commanding. 

On  first  seeing  each  other  both  ladies  have  a  blush  ; 
though  Miss  Lincoln  soon  loses  hers  and  becomes  pale. 
Lady  Annerley's  remains,  rouge  being  stronger  than 
blood. 

They  greet  each  other  with  the  usual  compliments  of 
the  season  and  without  any  great  embarrassment,  though 
Miss  Ethel  trembles  and  shrinks  a  little  under  her  lady 
ship's  kiss  ;  for  these  two  have  been  great  friends  before 
they  knew  Charley  Errol.  And  now  Ethel,  comparatively 
sure  of  the  young  man's  affection,  is  inclined  to  be  gen 
erous  to  her  unsuccessful  rival ;  while  Lady  Annerley, 
not  guessing  what  has  occurred  since  she  left  England, 
knows  that  her  only  consistent  conduct  is  that  of  friend, 
not  rival. 


MR,   POTTER  OP  TEXAS,  8O7 

She  says  u  I  see  you  loved  France,  my  child,  well 
enough  to  revisit  it.  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  you  were 
coming  ? "  Then  she  forces  herself  to  smile  and  utters 
playfully :  "  I  presume  Mr.  Errol  is  one  of  the  party  ? 

"Oh,  no,"  returns  Miss  Ethel.  "  I  am  in  Mr.  Potter's 
party  !"  and  doing  a  little  stronger  acting  causes  her 
self  to  laugh  and  say  airily  :  "  You  see,  I  gave  Charley 
a— a  half  holiday,  to  see  his  father." 

"  A-ah  !  "  echoes  her  ladyship  consideringly, 
looking  at  the  girl,  she  knows  Charley  Errol  has  not  yet 
had  enough  strength  of  mind  to  tell  his  sweetheart  his 
father  is  a  convict. 

At  this  moment  Lubbins  brings  to  her  a  card.  Wane- 
ing  at  it  Sarah  Annerley  imagines  Satan  has  put  a  trump 
into  her  hand,  and  proceeds  to  play  it. 

She  says  to  Lubbins  :  "  Wait  a  moment,  and  then  show 
the  gentleman  here."  „ 

"  I  thought,  my  lady,  it  was  to  your  private  parlor  I 
"  HERE  ! !  " 

"  Yes  my  lady."    And  Lubbins  disappears. 
Then  she  turns  to  Ethel  and  says  :   "Would  you  mind 
occupying  that  bay  window  for  a  moment  ?    I  expect  a 
visitor."  .    .      ... 

"  Of  course  not,  "  replies  the  girl,  and  sits  in  it,  think 
ing  to  herself  :  "  If  it  were  Charley  she'd  surely  have 
him  asked  to  her  private  parlor."  Then  she  says  aloud  : 
"  This  view  of  the  quay  will  interest  me  for  half  an  hour 
if  you  take  that  long." 

"  It  will  be  only  for  a  moment,  and  1 11  draw  the  cur 
tain  so  we  won't  disturb  you,"  mutters  her  ladyship. 
"  The  gentleman's  card  says  he  calls  on  business  ! 

With  this  Sarah  Annerley  moves  the  heavy  draperies, 
shutting  out  Miss  Lincoln  from  the  sight  of  any  one  m 
the  room.  Then  she  laughs  to  herself :  "  I'll  kill  her 
love- -it  will  be  a  mercy  to  her.  She'll  hear  every  word, 
and  know  from  Charley  Errol's  own  lips  that  he's  the 
son  of  a  criminal.  He  shall  see  whether  her  baby  pas 
sion  is  worth  to  a  man  who  suffers  more  than  that  of  a 
woman  who  by  suffering  has  learnt  to  love."  And  scowl 
ing  at  the  curtain,  she  hisses  between  her  clenched 
teeth  :  "  I'll  break  your  heart !  " 

But  here  a  smile  seizes  upon  and  illumines  her  face, 
and  she  flies  toward  the  door,  for  she  hears  a  coming 


MR.  POTTER  OP  TEXA& 


step  she  knows  and  waits  for  it,  murmuring  tenderly: 
"  He's  coming—  Charley's  coming  !  "  For  she  hates  Ethel 
Lincoln,  and  would  torture  her  forever,  and  loves  Charley 
Errol,  and  has  tortured  him,  but  only  to  gain  him  ;  and 
this  torture  being  over,  is  anxious  to  take  him  to  her,  and 
soothe  his  woes.  Such  are  the  curiosities  of  passion. 

A  moment  after  this  she  cries  :  "  Welcome  to  Boulogne, 
my  dear  Mr.  Errol  !  "  and  is  shaking  hands  with  the 
young  man. 

Mr.  Errol  looks  better  than  he  did  in  the  morning,  for 
he  has  got  to  hoping  again,  now  he  has  Lord  Lincoln's 
assistance^  He  has  just  been  to  his  father  and  told  him 
this,  considerately  keeping  from  the  old  man,  however, 
the  fee  he  has  paid  for  that  lawyer's  services. 

Still  there  are  enough  traces  of  suffering  in  his  face  to 
make  Lady  Sarah  suffer  also,  as  he  looks  at  her  rather 
searchingly,  for  he  remembers  Brackett's  injunction,  and 
says  :  "  Lady  Annerley,  the  business  on  which  I  called 
to  speak  to  you  is  of  the  greatest  private  moment." 
Business  ?  I  had  hoped  you  called  for  pleasure." 

"Until  this  business  is  settled,"  returns  Errol  gloomily, 
"there  can^be  no  pleasure  for  me." 

"  Then  sit  down,"  mutters  her  ladyship  nervously,  for 
though  she  has  no  fear  he  suspects  her  in  any  way,  still 
she  is  very  anxious  to  know  how  she  can  aid  him.  Then 
sinking  into  a  chair,  and  motioning  him  to  another,  she 
says  :  "I'll  listen." 

He  does  not  accept  her  invitation,  but  repeats  :  "  This 
business  is  of  a  most  personal  nature,"  and  looks  about 
the  room  suspiciously. 

"  Ah  !  "  replies  Lady  Sarah,  taking  the  hint.  "  My  pri 
vate  parlor  is  at  present  engaged,  but  my  servant  will  see 
that  we  are  not  interrupted  here."  Going  to  the  door 
she  finds  Lubbins  quite  near  it,  and  tells  him  to  see  that 
no  one  comes  in  without  informing  her,  then  repeats  her 
invitation  to  be  seated,  which  Mr.  Errol  now  accepts. 

Being  very  anxious  for  Miss  Ethel's  benefit  to  bring  the 
scene  to  a  climax,  Sarah  Annerley  now  makes  herself  as 
agreeable  and  fascinating  as  she  can,  all  the  time  plying 
him  with  such  questions  as  :  "  How  did  your  father  enjoy 
his  voyage  from  Australia?  You  had  not  seen  him  for 
two  years,  I  believe  ?  What  a  cordial  and  delightful 
meeting  it  must  have  been  !  " 


MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS,  209 

During  these  questions  Charley  Errol  is  thinking: 
"  It  is  not  possible  she  can  be  such  a  hypocrite." 

Finally  she  tells  him  he  is  not  looking  well,  and  says  : 
"  I  presume  you  must  have  sat  up  talking  with  your 
governor  all  last  night  ? " 

This  brings  speech  to  his  lips  ;  his  eyes  become  full  of 
agony,  and  hs  mutters  :  "Yes — all  last  night  I  suffered 7  " 

"  Suffered  ?  Mr.  Errol— Charley,  what  trouble  can  you 
have,  with  everything  to  make  you  happy — engaged  to  a 
beautiful  girl  ? " 

Here  he  gives  a  cry  that  makes  her  feel  for  him,  and 
she  has  sympathy  in  her  eyes  as  she  says  :  "  But  in  any 
— in  all  misfortunes  you  know  you  have  my'lo — ,  my 
friendship.  You  know  that,  don't  you,  Charley  ?  " 

"I  want  more  than  your  friendship,"  the  young  man 
says  hoarsely. 

"  More  ?  "  there  is  joy  in  Lady  Sarah's  voice. 

"  I  want  your  aid  !  " 

"  Aid  !     I  do  not  understand  !  " 

"  Last  night  my  father  was  again  exiled  from  Eng 
land  ? " 

"  Your  father !  Exiled  !  "  She  is  very  much  aston 
ished  and  cries  out  :  "  Impossible  !  For  what  ? "  think 
ing  he  will  tell  the  girl  in  the  bay  window. 

Here  he  frightens  her,  for  he  says,  looking  at  her 
searchingly  :  "  Lady  Annerley,  do  you  not  know  ? " 

But  she  forces  herself  to  meet  his  gaze  and  returns  : 
"  I  know  nothing  except  your  father  is  an  old  Australian, 
who  returned  to  England  last  night."  Then  she  asks 
again  for  the  benefit  of  the  girl  in  the  bay  window  :  "  For 
what  was  he  exiled  the  first  time  ?  " 

But  he  disappoints  her  once  more,  for  he  mutters  : 
"  My  father's  tale  is  too  sad  a  one  to  repeat — if  you  do 
not  know  it  ?  " 

"  If  I  do  not  know  it  ?    Why  did  you  think  I  knew  it  ?  " 

"  For  two  reasons.     First,  in  Egypt " 

"  In  Egypt !  "     This  is  a  cry. 

"  Yes,  my  memory  is  coming  back  to  me.  Last  night 
I  was  thinking  about  it.  You  said  something  of  my 
father." 

"  Yes  !  "  she  returns.  "  I  did  say  something  of  your 
father.  You  asked  me  if  you  died  to  send  him  the 
news — but  I  didn't  let  vou  die — did  I?  Answer  me  thai 


210  MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 

first,  and  make  insinuations  that  you  know  to  be  cru«! 
afterward  ! " 

The  thought  of  her  kindness  to  him  makes  him  tender 
to  her,  and  he  says  rather  shamefacedly  :  "  Lady  Sarah, 
I  would  say  nothing  to  you  on  this  subject,  but  the  de 
tective  who  is  investigating  the  affair " 

"  Ah  ! "  this  is  partly  a  gasp  of  dismay  and  partly  a 
cry  of  rage. 

"  Declared  to  me  that  you  were  the  person  that  sent  the 
information  to  the  Home  Office  that  caused  my  father  to 
be  again  expelled  from  England." 

The  tone  in  which  Charley  Errol  says  this  is  so  apolo 
getic  that  it  gives  the  woman,  hanging  on  his  words, 
courage.  She  cries  haughtily :  "  He  dared  accuse  me  of 
that  ? "  Then  her  eyes  become  soft,  her  tone  appealing, 
as  she  says,  her  heart  in  her  mouth  :  "  And  you,  Charley, 
what  did  you  say  ?  " 

"What  did  I  say?"  cries  Errol,  the  memory  of  her 
kindness  coming  to  him  and  the  enthusiasm  of  his  great 
friendship  for  her  carrying  him  away  :  "  I  said  I  would 
never  believe  such  treachery  of  the  noble  woman  who 
had  been  my  devoted  nurse,  and  whose  father  had  been 
my  father's  fast  friend  in  his  great  trouble." 

"  When  did  you  learn  that  ?  "  she  questions  anxiously. 

"  My  father  told  me  not  an  hour  ago  !  " 

"Ah  !  all  that  binds  us  closer  now." 

"  It  does,"  cries  Charley.  "  We're  firmer  friends  than 
ever ;  and,  oh,  my  heavens,  how  I  want  them  now ! " 
Then  she,  holding  out  a  sympathetic  and  beautiful  hand 
to  him,  this  poor,  tortured,  shamefaced  creature  seizes  it, 
calling  her  "  his  good  angel,"  which  makes  conscience 
give  her  another  thrust. 

After  a  moment,  however,  they  both  become  calmer, 
and  she  says  :  "  Thank  you  for  doing  me  justice,"  and 
then  suggests  rather  nervously  :  "  but  the  detective " 

"  Oh,  I  left  him  in  England  some  hours  ago  !  " 

And  she  mutters  to  this  :  "  Thank  Heaven  !  "  But  it  is 
only  a  speech  of  the  mind  and  he  doesn't  hear  it,  for 
Lubbins  has  come  hurriedly  in  and  announced  that  "  a 
man  named  Brackett  insists  on  seeing  Mr.  Herrol." 

Before  Lady  Annerley  can  interpose  an  objection  Errol 
tells  Lubbins  to  let  him  in, 

"Who  is  it?  "she  asks. 


MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS.  81 1 

"The  detective  we  were  just  speaking  about.  He 
must  have  some  new  information." 

And  asking  her  to  excuse  him  a  moment  the  young 
man  turns  to  Mr.  Brackett,  who  comes  in  whistling  to 
Snapper,  while  Sarah  Annerley  trembles  and  gasps  to 
herself  :  "  If  he  should  discover  ?  My  heavens  !  If  Char 
ley  should  discover  !  "  This  thought  overcomes  her  and 
she  sinks  into  a  chair,  for  upon  the  entrance  of  the  detect 
ive  she  had  sprung  to  her  feet  almost  as  if  to  run  from 
the  apartment. 

"  The  proof  you  demanded,  sir  !  "  says  Brackett  short 
ly,  holding  out  to  Mr.  Errol  a  letter. 

This  the  young  man  does  not  take,  but  turns  and  says: 
"  Lady  Annerley,  this  man  again  repeats  his  assertion. " 

"  And,  Charley,  you  let  him  do  it  ? " 

This  appeal  Mr.  Errol  cannot  resist,  and  replies  to 
Brackett  determinedly  :  "  I  cannot  believe  you  !  " 

But  here  her  ladyship  interrupts  further  discussion  by 
crying  :  "  Lubbins,  put  that  dog  out !  "  for  little  Snapper 
has  crept  quietly  up  to  her  and  surreptitiously  licked  her 
hand.  She  is  venting  her  spleen  against  the  detective 
on  his  pet. 

Lubbins,  cautiously  approaching  the  little  creature, 
as  if  he  dreaded  hydrophobia,  Mr.  Brackett  says  :  "  Bah  ! 
Snapper  won't  hurt  either  of  you,"  and  picking  the 
dog  up  gives  it  to  the  servant  and  tells  him  to  hold 
it  in  the  hall  till  he  comes  out.  This  Lubbins  does, 
Snapper  transferring  his  caresses  from  Lady  Annerley's 
hands  to  the  ex-waiter's  face,  and  her  ladyship  suggest 
ing  that  Mr.  Brackett  had  perhaps  better  take  out  his  dog 
himself. 

This  makes  the  detective  angry,  and  he  determines  to 
put  in  practice  a  trick  that  wiser  heads  than  his  have 
suggested  in  London. 

He  says  :  "In  a  minute,  if  youf  ladyship  will  do  me 
the  honor  to  answer  a  few  questions."  This  is  uttered 
very  respectfully,  for  Sergeant  Brackett  would  have  been 
deferential  to  a  peeress  even  while  clapping  the  bracelets 
upon  her  wrists. 

"  A  dozen,  if  you  dare  ask  them  !  "  sneers  Lady  Anner 
ley,  rising,  and  like  a  good  many  clever  women,  letting 
her  temper  get  the  better  of  her  at  precisely  the  wrong 
moment. 


212  MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS* 

"  Then,"  says  Mr.  Brackett,  tapping  the  letter  he  stifl 
carries  in  his  hand,  and  catching  her  ladyship's  eye, 
"  you  deny,  Lady  Annerley,  that  this  letter,  which  is  a 
fac-simile  of  the  one  received  at  the  Home  Office  from 
Venice,  is  in  your  handwriting?" 

"  Of  course  I  do  !  "  cries  Lady  Sarah,  getting  very 
frightened  at  the  word  Venice. 

"What?"  says  Brackett,  confidently,  "when  it  has 
your  signature  attached  to  it  ? " 

_This  is  a  barefaced  falsehood  and  it  makes  her  wild 
with  rage.  She  shrieks  out  :  «  It  is  a  lie  ;  there  was  no 
signature  to  that  letter  !  "  Then  pauses  and  turns  pale,  for 
passion  leaves  her  and  reason  comes  back  to  her  with  a 
shock. 

Mr.  Brackett  says  quietly  :  "  You  are  perfectly  right, 
my  lady,  there  is  no  signature  to  this  letter."  And 
handing  it  to  Mr.  Errol  he  remarks  :  "  You  see,  sir,  she 
knows  all  about  it.  I  shall  await  your  orders  at  my 
lodgings,"  then  goes  out  on  tiptoe.  For  when  the  de 
tective  stops  speaking  the  silence  is  like  that  of  the 
tomb,  and  this  man  and  woman  are  looking  at  each  other 
in  a  way  that  impresses  Sergeant  Brackett. 

This  silence  continues  after  the  detective  has  left  the 
room  ;  it  is  first  broken  by  the  woman,  for  Lady  Anner 
ley,  angry  with  despair,  visits  her  wrath  upon  the  first  ob 
ject  at  her  hand,  which  is  the  Australian.  She  cries  out 
to  him  in  reproach :  "  And— and  you,  Charley  Errol,  who 
called  yourself  my  friend,  allowed  that  man  to  trick  me 
out  of  my  secret — thus " 

On  this  the  man,  who  has  given  a  hasty  glance  at  the 
letter,  for  he  can  hardly  still  believe  the  truth,  wounds 
her  with  these  words  :  "  And  you,  Lady  Annerley,  whom 
I  once  thought  my  friend,  why  have  you  hated  me?" 
And  she  calls  out:  "I  hatejw//"  and  sinks  down  upon 
a  sofa  and  gasps  "you  !  "  but  still  looks  him  in  the  face. 

"  Oh,  what  a  hypocrite  you  are  ! "  he  goes  on  with  a 
(earful  reproach  in  his  voice.  ''After  professing  the 
greatest  friendship  for  me  you  sent  this  cruel  letter  that 
has  driven  my  father  an  exile  from  his  birthplace  and 
separated  me  perhaps  forever  from  the  girl  I  was  about 
to  marry  !  Your  true  reason — Sarah  Annerley,  your  true 
reason  for  this  ?  " 

"  My  true  reason  ?"  she  cries,  and  then  groans,  looking 


MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

straight  at  him  :  "  Heaven  help  me !  What  shall  I  tell 
you  now  ? " 

"  I  ask  you  why  ?  " 

"  Why  ? "  she  cries  and  looks  at  him,  a  new  light  com- 
ing  into  her  face  which  makes  him  stare  amazed.  Then 
she  pants  :  "  Can't  you  guess  ?  I—"  and  here  hesitates, 
and  real  blushes  cover  her,  making  her  more  beautiful 
than  ever  ;  but  she  forces  herself  to  go  on  :  "I  did  not 
wish  you  to  wed  the  girl  you  were  about  to  marry ! 
Charley,  don't  look  me  in  the  face  and  I — I  will  tell  you. 
What  else  could  separate  you  from  the  girl  you  were 
about  to  marry  ? '' 

This  brings  a  cry  from  him,  for  he  now  begins  to  know. 

But  she  keeps  on,  not  noticing :  "  A  desperate  woman 
cares  not  for  her  means.  I  knew  but  one  thing  could  do 
it  and  I  did  it.  Her  father's  family  pride  will  never 
permit  his  daughter's  union  with  what  you  are.  I  am 
my  own  mistress,  wealthy  and  independent  of  the  world. 

I  could  forget  your  shame,  for  I — oh,  Charley,  I  lo " 

And  would  complete  the  word  but,  covered  with  shame 
and  humiliation,  this  great  English  lady  cannot  speak  it, 
and,  turning  away,  falls  down  upon  a  sofa,  not  looking  at 
him. 

To  this  Errol,  very  pale,  whispers  :  "  My  Heaven,  you 
love  me  f  "  for  at  last  he  sees. 

At  these  words  she  turns  upon  him  and  cries :  "  How 
dare  you  say  it  ?  You  have  not  yet  said  you  love  me!  " 
and  then  clings  about  him,  for  pride  has  been  destroyed 
by  passion,  and  gasps  :  "  How  could  I  help  it,  I,  who  saw 
you  fight  for  me  in  Egypt !  "  and  then  begs  him:  "  Don't 
investigate  !  Don't  try  to  prove  your  father's  innocence, 
and  by  it  proclaim  his  shame  !  Think,  know  that  here  is 
a  woman  who  will  cast  her  lot  with  you  ;  who  will  leave 
England,  where  society  would  not  tolerate  you,  for  your 
sake  ;  who  offers  you  your  one  chance  of  happiness  ! " 

But  he  cries  back  to  her  :  "  My  one  chance  of  happi 
ness  ?  I  have  but  one,  and  that  is  to  right  my  father  ; 
to  make  his  name  so  high  in  honor  that  the  woman  I  love 
will  share  it  with  me  !  For  if  I  do  not  gain  Ethel  Lin 
coln  I  am  unhappy  forever  !  " 

Then,  in  his  imagination  seeing  the  pale  face  of  the 
girl  he  loves  as  she  sank  down  in  sad  appeal  between 
her  brother  and  his  righteous  anger,  he  struggles  and 


214  MR-    POTTER    OF    TEXAS. 

breaks  away  from  Lady  Annerley's  pleading  arms.  Then 
he  thinks  it  all  a  dream,  for  he  hears  :  "  Charley,  you 
shall  gain  me  !  That  woman's  arts  shall  not  part  us  !  " 
and  looking  up,  startled  and  astounded,  sees  the  same 
sweet  face  of  his  love  and  imagination.  For  Ethel  Lin 
coln  is  standing  between  him  and  Lady  Annerley,  who 
starts  back,  screaming  in  a  half-scared  voice  :  "  I  had 
forgotten  her  !  "  In  the  delirium  of  the  confession  of 
her  passion,  brought  about  by  Mr.  Brackett,  her  rival's 
presence  has  passed  entirely  from  her  mind. 

Ethel's  face  is  no  longer  sad  nor  her  eyes  pathetic ; 
the  first  is  radiant  with  trusting  love,  the  second  sparkle 
with  indignant  fire  at  Lady  Annerley.  The  dove  is  about 
to  battle  with  the  hawk. 

"You  overheard "  mutters  Errol. 

"  Enough  to  make  me  love  you  more  than  that  woman 
ever  could  !  " 

This  confidence  and  trust  of  the  girl  in  her  sweetheart's 
affection  makes  Lady  Sarah  very  bitter  toward  her  and 
she  answers :  "  We  shall  see  how  much  you  love  him. 
Do  you  know  what  this  man  is  ?  " 

"  Yes.     He's  the  man  I  love  !  " 

Then  Lady  Annerley  goes  on  in  quiet  intensity  to 
the  girl,  who  stands  like  a  statue  listening  to  her.  "  Do 
you  love  him  well  enough  to — to  take  the  taint  of  his 
family  upon  you  ;  to  turn  your  back  upon  your  friends  ; 
to  be  disowned  by  your  brother  and  your  father  ?  Then 
if  you  do — take  him  !  for  the  man  you  wish  to  marry 

She  has  to  pause  here,  for  now  Errol  is  screaming  at  her 
in  a  voice  that  would  be  loud  were  it  not  hoarse  with  de 
spair  :  "  Mercy  !  Don't !  Don't  tell  her  of  my  shame  !  " 

But  she  mutters  :  "  Forgive  me,  Charley  ! "  and  then 
cries  out  louder  than  he  :  "  Is  the  offspring  of  a  ticket-of- 
leave  man  ;  the  SON  OF  A  CONVICT  !  " 

At  this  the  statue  falls  down  at  the  feet  of  the  suffering 
man,  gasping  :  "  Charley,  tell  her  it  is  not  true  !  " 

And  the  man,  turning  his  face  away  and  bowing  his 
head,  whispers  :  "  I  cannot." 

The  awful  shock  of  the  revelation  crushes  the  girl. 
She  hides  her  head  also. 

"  You  see  which  loves  you  best,  "  says  Lady  Annerley 
in  a  sneer  and  triumph  that  become  Dead  Sea  fruits  upon 


MR,    POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

her  lips ;  for  here  the  girl  staggers  to  the  man  and  clasps 
her  arms  around  him  and  soothes  him,  crying  "Idol 
For  if  he  is  all  this,  he  is  still  the  man  /  love  !  Don't 
heed  her  cruel  words  when  my  arms  are  round  you  !" 

And  bringing  to  this  poor,  tortured  fellow  the  love  of 
the  wife  instead  of  the  love  of  the  maiden,  his  agony  be 
comes  less  and  tears  soothe  him  and  give  him  rest. 

A  moment  after  he  says  very  quietly  but  very  sadly  to 
the  girl,  forcing  himself  to  be  calmer  as  he  sees  she  is  giv 
ing  way,  and  putting  her  gently  from  him:  "  But,  darling,  I 
must  heed  them  ;  they  are  the  words  of  the  world,  and  we 
can't  escape  them  !  "  then  suddenly  cries  to  her :  "  Oh, 
don't  make  my  task  too  hard  !  Don't  make  me  forget  in 
the  magic  of  your  embrace  that  every  word  I  speak  to 
you  now  breaks  my  word  to  your  father  !  "  For  she  has 
got  to  him  again  and  her  arms  are  holding  him  once  more. 

These  he  unclasps  gently,  and  getting  before  her  lady 
ship,  who  has  watched  all  this  with  varying  hope  and 
fear,  he  says  quite  gently,  though  there  is  a  little  trem 
ble  in  his  voice  :  "  Lady  Annerley,  you  have  conquered, 
You  have  parted  me  from  the  being  I  love  most  upon 
this  earth  !  " 

And  my  lady  mutters  to  herself :  "  At  last !  " 

Then  Errol  articulates,  though  the  speech  is  hardly 
audible :  "  Ethel,  there  is  but  one  chance  you  will  ever 
hear  my  voice  again  in  this  world,  and  that  is  the  chance 
of  proving  my  father's  innocence  !  " 

And  Lady  Annerley  cries  :  "  Then  your  parting  is 
eternal!" 

This  word  breaks  the  spell.  The  scene,  which  was 
quiet  with  despair,  now  becomes  a  wild  protest  against  it. 

Ethel  echoes  :  "  Eternal !  "  and  runs  to  Errol,  crying  : 
"  Charley  !  Don't  leave  me  forever  !  Think  how  much 
I  love  you  !  Know  that  if  the  world  drives  you  from  it, 
I  will  go  with  you  !  " 

il  Don't  torture  me,"  gasps  Errol,  hoarsely. 

"  That  where  your  home  is,  mine  shall  be  also  !  " 

While  she  says  this  Charley  is  trembling  in  the  girl's 
embrace,  whose  proffered  sacrifice  for  him  makes  her 
dearer  than  ever. 

He  mutters  :  "  Oh  !  how  you  tempt  me  !  Pity  me  ! 
Don't  make  my  duty  too  hard  !  " 

Then   struggling  away  from  her,  he  cries :  "  I'm  not 


2l6 


MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 


selfish  enough  to  accept  your  social  suicide  /  "  and  turns  to 
stagger  off. 

But  catching  him  before  he  reaches  the  door,  the  girl 
begs  and  pleads  with  him  :  "  Charley,  do  not  desert  me  !  '' 
then  screams  hysterically:  "DON'T  LET  THAT  WOMAN 

TRIUMPH  !  " 

It  is  October,  and  the  hotel  having  but  few  guests,  so 
far  no  one  has  noticed  what  has  been  going  on  in  the  par 
lor,  but  Arthur,  who  has  just  come  to  the  house,  hears  his 
ister's  cry  and  strides  into  the  apartment.  He  drags 
her  to  her  feet,  saying  in  a  sarcastic  voice:  "What! 
Humiliating  yourself  again— before  your  rival  !  Ethel  I 
despise  you  !" 

'  No,  no  !  he  loves  me  !  "  gasps  Ethel.  "  You  owe 
him  reparation." 

But  the  victory  in  Lady  Annerley's  eyes   makes  the 
young  man  hardly  heed  his  sister's  words,  and  he  mutters  •. 
Reparation  to  him  ?     When  I  hear  you  cry,  '  Do  not 
esert   me  ! '   and  see   that   woman's  eyes    blazing  with 
triumph  !        Then  dropping  the  girl  upon  a  sofa  he  ad 
vances  to  Errol,  who  has  drawn  himself  up  and  uttered  : 
For  God's  sake,  don't  touch  me  again.     If  you  do,  by 
Heaven,  I'll  forget  she  is  your  sister,  and  remember  only 
that  I  am  a  man  !  " 

The  first  is  said  almost  pleadingly,  the  second  in  that 
awful  low  tone  that  comes  to  men  when  they  are  going 
to  kill  each  other,  and  the  next  instant  Mr.  Potter's 
prophecy  would  have  probably  been  fulfilled,  were  it  not 
that  now  there  comes  the  flurry  of  a  light  dress,  and  in 
a  flash  Ida  Potter's  beautiful  face,  radiant  with  anxiety, 
is  between  the  awful  passions  of  these  men. 

She  has  seen  Arthur  enter  the  hotel   and  hurried  after 
She  cries  "Stop!"   in  a  way  that  makes  both  of 
them  pause  ;  and  then,  turning  to  Arthur,  says  :  "  Here  is 
a  gentleman  to  whom  you  owe  apology." 

"  Without  an  explanation  ?  Never  !  "  replies  her  be 
trothed,  doggedly. 

;<  Then  I  will  make  it  for  you  !  "cries  Ida,  and  she  turns 
and  gives  the  Australian  a  look  of  confidence  and  respect 
that  sends  the  blood  coursing  through  this  poor,  humili 
ated  fellow's  veins  again  as  she  says  :  "  Charles  Errol, 
Ethel's  brother  does  not  understand  your  cruel  position 
~~but  I  do  I  For  my  sake  pardon  and  forgive  him  !  " 


MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS.  2i; 

Here  Arthur  mutters  to  her  :  "  Ida,  this  is  humiliation  ! 
You  shall  apologize  no  more  !  "  and  would  stop  her. 

But  she  waves  him  away,  and  with  a  face  beaming  with 
generous  enthusiasm  cries  :  "  I  will  do  more  than  apolo 
gize  ;  I  will  repay — for,  Charles  Errol,  I  give  you  back 
hope  !  " 

"  Hope  !  "  echoes  the  young  man,  and  strides  up  to  her 
uttering  hoarsely  :  "What  do  you  know  of  all  this  ? " 

Then  she  makes  them  all  astounded,  for  she  says  : 
« '  In  the  Times  of  yesterday  there  is  an  advertisement  for 
an  office  boy — missing  for  thirty  years." 

On  this  Lady  Annerley  suddenly,  in  an  awful  voice, 
cries  out  :  "  Good  heavens  !  "  and  begins  to  tremble. 

"  What  would  you  give  to  find  him  ?  " 

"  Everything  on  earth  !  " 

"  He  has  disappeared  !  He  is  dead  !  Impossible  ! "  in 
terrupts  Lady  Sarah. 

"  Then  I  will  bring  him  to  you  !  " 

And  now  Sarah  Annerley  cries  :  "  He  dare  not  return  ! 
He  fled  from  an  indictment  for  felony  thirty  years  ago  !  " 
But  Ida  only  sees  the  Australian  gazing  at  her  and  hang 
ing  on  her  words  as  if  the  breath  of  life  were  issuing 
from  her  lips,  and  turning  on  Lady  Annerley  cries  back 
at  her  :  "  But  is  innocent  !  I  know  it  !  " 

"  And  how  will  you  prove  that  ? " 

"  By  asking  him  !  " 

"  Asking  him  ?"  This  is  a  cry  of  surprise  from  all  of 
them,  even  Arthur. 

But  Miss  Potter  returns  :  "  Yes  !  Do  you  suppose  I 
fear  the  ordeal  ?  When  my  father  left  England,  thirty 
years  ago,  to  win  fortune  in  America,  he  was  the  office 
boy  you  seek  !  " 

Then  Errol  mutters :  "  In  Heaven's  name  who's 
guilty  ? " 

And  Ida  cries  :  "  SHE  KNOWS  !  "  and  stands  like  the 
statue  of  truth  over  Lady  Annerley,  who  has  collapsed 
upon  a  sofa  with  a  faint  gasping  that  seems  like  :  "  Don't 
tell  him  !  Don't  tell  him  !  " 

Thus  they  all  leave  her  and  coming  out  encounter 
Lubbins,  who  says  nothing,  though  his  eyes  are  very  big. 

Before  they  are  away  from  the  hotel,  however,  Miss 
Potter  tells  Arthur,  who  wonders  if  they  are  all  mad, 
enough  of  the  truth  to  cause  him  to  beg  Errol's  pardon 


2l8  MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 

and  shake  hands  with  the  young  Australian,  who  bolti 
off  to  his  father  with  the  joyous  news  of  Sammy  Potts' 
being  found. 

Arthur  escorts  the  two  girls  back  to  the  Hotel  du  Pa 
vilion,  where  they  will  stay  for  the  night  and  expect  to 
see  Mr.  Potter,  but  he  has  not  arrived.  Here  Ida,  tell 
ing  her  lover  all  she  knows  of  the  case  of  the  elder  Errol 
and  her  father's  connection  with  it,  he  looks  very  solemn, 
for  an  indictment  for  felony  always  seems  serious  to  an 
English  lawyer. 

He  says  to  the  girl :  "  You  should  have  told  Mr.  Tot 
ter  of  this  first." 

"  What !  Do  you  suppose  I  doubt  my  father's  inno 
cence  ?  Do  you  imagine  I  could  see  the  agony  in  poor 
Charley  Errol's  eyes  and  hold  my  tongue,  when  that 
woman  dared  me  ? "  replies  Ida  airily. 

"  Innocence  is  sometimes  difficult  to  prove  !  "  mutters 
her  lover,  and  then  asks  anxiously  at  the  office  for  Mr. 
Potter.  They  have  not  seen  him,  and  he  waits  and  waits 
until  tired. 

It  is  now  seven  o'clock  and  Arthur,  hearing  a  rumor 
that  makes  him  shudder,  comes  in  with  a  disturbed  face 
to  the  young  ladies,  and  says  he  will  go  into  town  and 
hunt  up  Ida's  father. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  returns  Miss  Potter  to  him, 
here  noting  his  expression.  "  Why  are  you  running  away 
without  any  dinner?"  for  that  meal  has  just  been  an 
nounced. 

"  I — you  see  your  governor  may  have  gone  back  to 
England  to-night  !  " 

"  Nonsense  !  I  saw  his  old  valise  in  the  office.  I'd 
know  it  anywhere  by  the  two  bullet  holes  in  it !  "  asserts 
the  girl. 

"  Still — I— I  think  I'd  better  make  sure  !  " 

"  Make  sure  of  what  ?  You've  heard  something  ! 
You  sha'n't  go  till  I  hear  it.  If  it's  about  my  father,  I 
demand  to  know  it  !  "  and  Miss  American  has  got  in 
front  of  the  door. 

"  Well,  I'm  afraid  your  information  to  Lady  Annerley 
has  got  your  father  into  trouble.  There  is  a  rumor  in 
the  hotel  that  Mr.  Potter  has  left  town." 

"  Very  well.  Go  and  see.  I'll  keep  dinner  for  you," 
returns  Ida,  with  an  absolute  faith  in  her  father's  probity 


MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 

and  safety  that  astounds  the  young  man.  For  she  going 
back  to  the  table,  he  notes  even  as  he  leaves  the  room, 
has  lost  none  of  her  appetite,  and  eats  as  if  she  enjoys  the 
meal  much  more  than  poor  Ethel,  who  even  now  is  by  no 
means  in  a  buoyant  mood. 

The  dinner  passes,  eight  o'clock  comes,  then  nine  ; 
and  now  Miss  Potter  gets  a  little  anxious,  not  for  her 
father's  innocence,  but  for  Arthur's  safety,  in  whose 
ability  to  knock  about  the  streets  of  this  French  town 
she  has  by  no  means  the  supreme  confidence  she  has  in 
her  father's. 

At  ten  o'clock  Arthur  comes  in,  and  now  his  news 
startles  even  her  ;  as  he  with  a  scared  face  announces 
that  there  is  a  warrant  out  for  the  arrest  of  Sammy 
Potts,  and  a  requisition  on  the  French  Government  has 
come  over  to  the  detective  for  his  body.  That  hearing 
of  this,  Sampson  Potter  had  fled  by  train  toward  Pans 
pursued  by  Sergeant  Brackett,  and  that  he,  Arthur,  has 
telegraphed  to  Lord  Lincoln,  who  will  be  over  in  the 
morning. 

Now  no  girl  could  hear  such  a  report  of  her  father 
without  some  uneasiness,  and  it  is  not  decreased  by 
Arthur's  moody  manner.  For  that  young  gentleman  has 
got  very  solemn,  and  is  now  making  remarks  about  boys 
of  tender  age  not  being  responsible  for  their  actions  ; 
that  no  child  is  legally  liable  ;  that  some  of  the  worst  lads 
he  has  known  have  become  the  noblest  men  ;  that  he 
himself  as  a  child  had  been  a  fearful  thief  at  cake  and 
jam  ;  that  a  man  should  not  be  held  to  account  for  the 
transgressions  of  babyhood,  etc.,  etc. 

One  of  these  reflections  intended  to  soothe  his  sweet 
heart  coming  to  her  ears,  this  very  proud  young  lady 
flashes  up  to  her  lover  and  frightens  him  by  saying  : 
"  No  more  of  that,  Arthur,  if  you  want  to  marry  me. 
No  insinuations  that  by  any  possibility  my  father,  boy  or 
man,  could  ever  take  anything  that  wasn't  his,  or  any 
undue  advantage  of  any  man  ! " 

In  which  she  does  the  absent  Potter  more  than  justice, 
for  the  Honorable  Sampson  was  considered  the  very 
keenest  man  in  the  West  on  a  cattle  trade,  and  in  a  horse 
transaction  was  regarded  as  a  living  terror  by  his  friends 
in  Texas. 

Having  thus  vindicated  her  father,  Miss  Potter  goes 


220  MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS. 

to  bed,  where  femininity  gets  the  better  of  pride  and 
she  cries  and  sobs:  "Oh,  my  Heaven !  I,  who  should  have 
warned  my  father  so  that  he  could  prove  his  innocence, 
have  betrayed  him  to  his  enemies  !  "  But  though  she 
tosses  and  writhes,  no  doubt  ever  enters  the  girl's  mind 
of  old  Potter's  entire  guiltlessness. 

And  now  pride  comes  back  to  her  again,  for  Ethel 
knocks  on  the  door  of  her  room  and  being  admitted, 
snuggles  herself  up  to  Ida  in  bed  and  thinking  to  soothe 
her  says  :  "  Ida,  dear  one,  I've  been  praying  for  your 
poor  father,  whom  the  detective  is  following  to  arrest." 

"  Have  you  ? "  says  Miss  Potter.  "  I'VE  BEEN  PRAY 
ING  FOR  THE  DETECTIVE  !  " 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

POOR    OLD    POTTER. 

ON  leaving  Errol  and  Lady  Annerley  Sergeant  Brack- 
ett  goes  to  his  lodgings  in  a  humble  hotei  upon  the  quay, 
and  gets  an  awful  surprise.  Awaiting  him  is  a  packet 
from  the  English  Government  marked  "  immediate."  On 
opening  this  the  detective  gives  an  amazed  gasp  of  hor 
ror,  and  drops  the  packet  on  the  floor  as  if  it  had  been 
an  infernal  machine. 

Then  mutters  :  "  It  ain't  possible  !  "  but  looking  it 
over  again  there  is  no  doubt  of  the  genuineness  of  the 
documents  contained  in  it.  These  consist  of  a  warrant 
for  the  arrest  of  one  Samuel  Potts  alias  Sampson  Potter, 
indicted  for  felony  ;  also  a  requisition  in  proper  form 
upon  the  French  Government  for  the  extradition  of  the 
aforesaid  criminal  ;  as  well  as  a  letter  from  Scotland 
Yard  telling  Brackett  not  to  leave  the  matter  to  the 
French  gendarmerie,  but  to  see  to  the  execution  of  the 
warrant  in  person,  and  if  possible  bring  Potts  alias  Potter 
to  England  without  appealing  to  French  law ;  warning 
Brackett,  however,  to  be  exceedingly  careful  of  his  own 
personal  safety  in  the  affair,  as  from  various  inquiries 
hastily  made  said  Potts  or  Potter  had  the  reputation  in 
America  of  being  a  most  determined  and  bloody  criminal 
as  well  as  a  fearfully  dangerous  man  to  encounter. 


MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS.  221 

"  Dangerous  !  "  ejaculates  the  detective,  with  a  shiver. 
"Dangerous!"  It's  most  like  murder  to  send  me  on 
such  business.  A  man  with  a  family  !  "  and  then  turn 
ing  to  his  dumb  friend  for  consolation,  as  many  of  us 
often  do,  he  mumbles  :  "  They're  tired  of  paying  your  old 
master's  salary  up  at  the  Yard,  Snapper,  and  want  him 
wiped  off  the  roll."  A  remark  that  is  more  true  than 
the  sergeant  imagines.  To  this  Snapper  responds  by 
licking  Brackett's  face  with  his  tongue  and  vigorously 
wagging  his  tail  as  if  he  were  glad  of  it.  Which  the 
poor  brute  isn't,  as  he  loves  his  master  with  all  his  warm 
little  heart,  and  would  follow  him  through  the  world  for 
ever  ;  a  devotion  that  Snapper  has  an  opportunity  some 
what  later  that  day  of  proving,  to  Brackett's  misery  and 
despair. 

After  a  little  time  the  detective  pulls  himself  together 
and  looks  over  the  documents  again.  They  are  official 
and  correct  in  every  particular,  a  blank  space,  however, 
being  left  for  a  further  description  of  Potts  alias  Potter, 
which  Brackett  fills  up  with  the  words  "  Dangerous, 
bloodthirsty,  and  to  be  approached  with  caution."  Think 
ing,  in  case  he  should  be  fortunate  enough  not  to  find 
Potter  and  so  let  him  escape,  they  will  tend  to  excul 
pate  him  (Brackett)  in  the  eyes  of  the  English  police  offi 
cials. 

For  now  what  he  saw  in  the  shooting  gallery  comes  to 
him  with  awful  significance,  and  he  mutters  :  "  My  Lord  j 
he  was  preparing  himself  for  me.  God  help  my  family  ! 
and  contemplates  telegraphing  his  resignation  to  Eng 
land.  But  after  a  moment  a  brilliant  idea  shoots  through 
his  mind,  and  that  is,  he  will  spread  the  report  he  has  a 
warrant  to  arrest  Potter  as  a  criminal,  and  so  warned  the 
Texan  may  leave  the  place  and  permit  him,  Brackett,  to 
live.  For  the  sergeant  has  become  so  imbued  with  his 
favorite  border  literature  that  he  wouldn't  give  a  penny 
for  his  chance  for  life  in  an  encounter  with  Sammy  Potts 
alias  Potter.  A  brutal  English  burglar  or  French  escaped 
galley  slave,  the  detective  would  have  met  with  courage 
and  equanimity  ;  but  this  scalping  Western  ruffian,  this 
bandit  of  the  plains — the  thought  of  meeting  him  in  com 
bat  makes  Brackett  shudder  as  if  he  had  the  ague.  Even 
this  afternoon  he  has  read  a  work  of  fiction  called  Potts, 
the  Pirate  of  the  Prairies,  and  conceives  the  horrible 


222  MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

atrocities  of  its  gory  hero  to  be  nothing  more  than  the 
life  and  adventures  of  Sammy  Potts. 

"  How  in  the  name  of  bad  luck  did  the  authorities  drop 
on  him  ? "  mutters  the  detective,  as  he  goes  out  to  spread 
the  report. 

But  this  is  easily  accounted  for  by  the  fact  that  Mr. 
Potter  had  left  a  letter  for  Mr.  Portman,  Errol's  advertis 
ing  solicitor,  stating  the  fact  that  he  was  Sammy  Potts, 
and  on  his  return  to  England  the  next  morning  that  gen 
tleman  had  communicated  with  the  British  police  author 
ities,  with  the  before-stated  result. 

It  does  not  take  long  to  circulate  a  rumor  that  any  man 
is  a  criminal,  and  Mr.  Brackett's  statement  is  soon  flying 
about  Boulogne.  It  reaches  the  Hotel  des  Bains,  and  is 
instantly  carried  by  the  excited  Lubbins  to  Lady  Anner- 
ley,  who  has  been  in  a  state  of  semi-coma  since  her  inter 
view  with  Errol.  She  hurriedly  sends  word  to  the  detec 
tive  that  she  must  see  him. 

If  Potts  can  prove  his  innocence,  it  will  disclose  to 
Charley  Errol  a  treachery  on  her  part,  unutterably  more 
cruel,  cowardly,  and  dishonorable  than  the  mere  betrayal 
of  his  father's  presence  in  England  to  the  police,  of  which 
at  this  time  he  only  thinks  her  guilty.  The  contempla 
tion  of  the  contempt  and  loathing  this  will  arouse  in  the 
heart  of  the  man  she  loves  makes  her  shudder  and  thrill 
with  horror.  And  she  lies  upon  a  sofa,  when  unobserved, 
moaning  and  wringing  her  hands,  and  when  Lubbins  or  her 
maid  is  present  forcing  herself  to  an  unnatural  calmness. 

A  few  moments  after  this  the  ex-waiter  conies  up  more 
excited  than  ever  and  ejaculates :  "  The  Honorable 
Sammy  Potts — I — I  mean  Sampson  Potter,  to  see  your 
ladyship  !  " 

"  Did  he  seem  agitated  ?"  asks  his  mistress  with  a  start, 
struggling  to  a  sitting  position  upon  the  sofa. 

"  Hon  the  contrary— werry  cool  and  dilettante  /" 

"  Quick  !  show  him  up  !  "  and  Lubbins  with  a  bow 
leaving  the  room  Lady  Annerley  pulls  herself  together 
for  a  last  and  mighty  struggle  to  seem  less  than  a  fiend 
in  the  mind  of  the  man  she  loves.  If  Potts  can't  prove 
his  innocence  and  she  can  induce  him  to  fly,  all  may  be 
well  ;  if  not 

But  Mr.  Potter  now  comes  in  and  genially  remarks : 
"  Warm  evening,  Lady  Hannerley,  warm  evening  !  "  re- 


MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS.  22$ 

moving  his  hat,  producing  a  red  silk  bandana,  and  wiping 
his  wig. 

"  Mr.  Potts — Potter,  won't  you  be  seated  ?  "  murmurs 
her  ladyship,  who  has  risen  to  receive  him,  stumbling  a 
little  over  his  name. 

But  he  doesn't  notice  this,  and  beams  upon  her  :  "  Won't 
you  ?  Ladies  first  !  No  man  sits  when  a  lady  stands — not 
in  Texas." 

Then  very  gallantly  placing  her  in  a  chair,  the  old 
frontier  gentleman's  eyes  grow  big  at  the  beauty  before 
him,  for  Mr.  Potter  is  not  accustomed  to  ladies  in  even 
ing  dress,  and  the  fair  arms  and  neck  of  Lady  Annerley, 
together  with  her  flashing  diamonds  and  exquisite  toilet, 
have  set  his  ancient  heart  to  beating  as  he  gallantly  mut 
ters  :  "  Great  Scott,  your  ladyship  is  like  a  sireen  of  the 
night !  " 

Not  heeding  his  compliment,  Lady  Annerley,  desper 
ately  anxious  to  get  to  business,  asks  him  if  he  has  seen 
his  daughter  this  afternoon. 

To  this  he  replies  "  No  ; "  but  that  he  hears  she  is  in 
Boulogne,  and  that  he  will  get  on  her  trail  as  soon  as  he 
has  finished  up  a  leetle  business  that  he  has  called  upon 
her  ladyship  to  transact. 

"  Business  with  me  !  "  she  cries,  and  going  quickly  to 
the  door  she  locks  it. 

"  Hello  !  What's  that  for  ?  "  ejaculates  Mr.  Potter. 

"  I  have  a  servant  that  has  ears  !  " 

Here  she  gets  a  surprise,  for  the  Texan  suggests : 
"  Than  you'd  better  open  it  agin,  for  the  more  'as  heerd 
me  say  what  I'm  going  to,  the  prouder  you'd  be,  Lady 
Saharah." 

"The  prouder  I'd  be  ?" 

"  Prouder  than  if  you  was  a  Hinjin  with  a  red 
blanket." 

"  I  don't  understand  ! "  gasps  her  ladyship,  for  a  mo 
ment  wildly  thinking  that  Mr.  Potter's  intentions  are  matri 
monial,  as  his  eyes  follow  her  in  a  peculiar  grateful  way, 
and  she  remembers  his  remarks  about  her  being  a  sireen. 

He  undeceives  her,  however,  in  a  moment.  "  Until 
last  night,  Lady  Sahara,"  he  says,  "  I  never  knowed  you 
were  the  darter  of  Hold  Ginerosity  himself  !  " 

"  Old  Generosity  !  "  echoes  Lady  Annerley,  very  much 
astonished. 


224  MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS. 

"  Yes.  The  late  Sir  Jonas  Stevens — the  noblest  man 
that's  buried,  and  that  means  a  great  deal  more  than  the 
noblest  man  who  lives  ! "  cries  Potter,  his  eyes  blazing 
with  grateful  enthusiasm. 

"  Noble  ?  "  gasps  Lady  Sarah,  who  now  half  thinks  Pot 
ter  crazy,  but  after  a  moment  says,  suggestively  :  "  You 
have  not  had  many  dealings  with  him  ?  " 

u  But  one— and  that  branded  him  Ho.  J.-Hold  Giner- 
osity.  Your  father  was  very  kind  to  me,  and  you  have 
been  very  sociable  to  rny  darter,  and  I  thanks  you  for  it. 
Generous  blood  will  tell.  Your  father  was  my  worship! 
I  prayed  for  your  father  !  " 

"  Prayed  for  my  father  ?  "  the  tone  of  this  is  faint  with 
astonishment. 

"  Prayed  for  him  !  "  r-peats  Potter,  every  fiber  in  his 
body  showing  he  means  what  he  says.  "  Prayed  for  him 
every  night  in  my  life  till  I  grew  out  of  the  habit  of 
praying  at  all  !  "  Then  he  pauses,  and  dashes  two  tears 
out  of  his  eyes,  and  now  goes  on  more  slowly.  "  After 
thirty  years  death  has  cut  me  off  from  thanking  your 
daddy — the  great  banker — and  so  now  I've  come  over  to 
Boulogne  to  thank  you  as  the  darter  of  the  best  friend  I 
ever  had." 

"  Friend  ?"  returns  Lady  Annerley,  who  finds  it  very 
hard  to  believe  any  good  of  her  father.  Then  a  sudden 
light  Mashing  into  her  eyes  she  asks  excitedly  :  "  What 
did  he  do  for  you?."  and  gets  this  ambiguous  an 
swer. 

"  What  did  he  do  for  me  ?  He  made  the  pigmy  Sammy 
Potts  into  the  giant  Sampson  Potter  !  " 

She  doesn't  say  anything  to  this,  she  is  so  crushed  at 
finding  that  Potter  has  no  fear  of  his  identity  being 
known,  and  therefore  that  he  must  be  able  to  prove  his  in 
nocence. 

He,  however,  doesn't  give  her  much  chance  for  comment, 
for  he  goes  on  rapidly,  warming  to  his  subject:  "  I'll  tell 
you  how  it  was:  One  winter  morning  in  1850— I,  the 
little  office  boy  of  Jaffey  &  Stevens,  as  slept  in  the 
office,  was  awoke  one  morning  by  seeing  your  father— he 
was  cashier  of  the  bank  in  them  days — putting  sovereigns 
into  a  clerk's  desk." 

She  says  nothing  to  this,  knowing  what  is  coming, 
though  her  lips  form  the  words  :  "  Ralph  Errol's  !  " 


MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS,  22$ 

"  He  was  paying  him  back  wages,  he  said,  as  the  clerk 
was  going  to  Australia  early  that  day." 

"  And  then  ? " 

Here  Potter  fairly  gleams  at  his  listener,  who  sits  gazing 
at  him  as  if  he  were  a  basilisk.  "  How  generous  he  was  ! 
Your  father  asked  me  if  I'd  like  to  hemigrate  also  and 
become  a  man  ?  The  Calif orny  gold  fever  of  1849  was 
in  my  blood,  and  afore  night  I  found  myself  bound  for 
New  Orleans  with  thirty  sovereigns  in  my  pocket — A 

LOAN  FROM  YOUR  NOBLE  FATHER." 

Here  she  interrupts  him  with  :  "  A  loan  !  Do  you  think 
I'll  believe  this  likely  story  ?  " 

"  You  won't  take  my  thanks,  Lady  Sahara  ;  that's  true 
generosity  !"  returns  Potter.  "But  I'll  make  you  take 
'em  !  " 

"And  how?" 

"  By  proving  that  your  father  lent  me  them  ar  thirty 
sovereigns  !  "  gleams  the  Texan  on  her  with  grateful 
eyes,  and  she  cries  at  him  :  "  Proving  it !  you  sha'n't 
do  it !  " 

"  You're  too  good-hearted  and  modest,"  he  says  after 
a  moment,  for  her  manner  surprises  him.  "  But  I'll  make 
it  clear  to  you.  Do  you  see  this  sovereign,  Lady  Anner- 
ley  ?  "  With  this  he  holds  up  the  coin  upon  his  watch- 
chain.  "  Every  time  I  look  at  it  I  utters  a  blessing  upon 
your  daddy.  My  son  sports  one  similar  for  luck,  and  my 
darter  dangles  one  from  her  wrist  because  I've  told  her 
to." 

Looking  on  this  coin  Lady  Sarah  notes  with  a  start  it 
has  the  peculiar  mark  her  father  spoke  of  in  his  death 
bed  confession. 

"You've  no  doubt  seen  Miss  Potter's,"  says  that  young 
lady's  father,  complacently. 

"  Yes  !  "  mutters  his  listener  in  a  kind  of  a  daze  ;  then 
she  suddenly  continues  :  "  But  that  does  not  prove  you 
received  them  from  my  father ! "  and  after  a  moment 
suggests  :  "  I  want  better  evidence." 

She  says  this  quite  persuasively,  but  if  Mr.  Potter 
could  have  known  what  was  in  Lady  Annerley's  mind  at 
the  time  he  would  have  taken  her  glistening  white  throat 
into  his  hands,  strangled  her,  and  thus  made  an  end  to 
the  interview. 

As  it  is  he  paralyzes  her,  for  he  returns :  "  Then  I'll 


226  MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS. 

give  it  to  you,"  and  producing  an  old  weather-beaten 
leather  wallet  from  his  coat  pocket,  fumbles  in  it  for  a 
document  of  some  kind,  while  she  gasps  to  herself  : 
<k  Written  evidence  !  "  and  nearly  faints. 

Mr.  Potter,  however,  is  too  busy  to  notice  her.  He  is 
rummaging  over  the  contents  of  his  pocket-book,  which 
contains  some  greenbacks,  English  bank-notes,  a  New 
York  hotel  bill  receipted,  a  few  doubtful  pennies  and 
coins  he  has  been  unable  to  negotiate,  and  one  or  two 
laundry  lists,  all  these  scented  with  a  lot  of  fine-cut  chew 
ing  tobacco  that  has  insinuated  itself  from  his  pocket. 
At  last  he  finds  what  he  is  searching  for,  and  holds  up  a 
half  page  of  paper  yellow  with  age,  the  ink  of  which  is 
faded  from  the  same  cause. 

"  Thar,"  he  cries,  "is  the  receipt  of  your  daddy  for  the 
return  of  them  thirty  sovereigns  he  loaned  me  !  " 

And  she  gasps  :  "  No  !  no  !  "  and  were  she  not  seated 
in  a  chair  would  fall  down. 

"  Your  daddy  was  as  difficult  as  you  to  get  to  acknowl 
edge  his  generosity  !  "  remarks  Mr.  Potter.  "  I  had  to 
write  to  him  twenty  times  to  get  this  document — for  my 
first  object  in  the  New  World  was  to  return  his  noble  loan 
in  the  Old.  But  at  last,  in  1857,  I  was  shipping  hides  to 
London  and  had  an  agent,  and  as  I  made  a  point  of  it, 
and  sent  the  agent  to  him,  your  father  inclosed  me,  un 
der  his  own  seal,  this,"  and  she  looking  contrives  to  read 
the  following  : 

"LONDON,  July  15,  1857. 

"  £30 

"  Received  from  Samuel  Potts  thirty  pounds  (£36),  with  interest 
to  date  from  January  6,  1850. 

"  JONAS  STEVENS." 

"You,  see!  "cries  Mr.  Potter  triumphantly.  "That 
ar  date,  January  6,  1850,  was  the  last  day  Sammy  Potts 
was  in  England." 

"  Yes,"  murmurs  Lady  Sarah,  half  sarcastically,  "  I 
presume  that  was  a  hard  document  to  get  from  my 
father?"  Then  a  rapid  look  at  the  persistent  and  de 
termined  Potter  makes  her  admire  her  father's  acuteness 
in  seeing  it  was  safer  for  him  in  1857  to  send  this  receipt 
to  far-off  Texas  than  to  have  London  agents  running 
after  him  and  tendering  him  thirty  pounds  from  Sammy 
Potts,  a  boy  only  seven  years  before  advertised  for  all 


MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  227 

over  England  as  connected  with  a  great  crime  ;  and  he, 
the  close-fisted  Jonas  Stevens,  astonishing  the  agents  by 
refusing  the  money. 

Her  father's  acuteness  makes  her  have  confidence  in 
her  own.  She  carelessly  hints  :  "  I  presume  that's  all  the 
proof  you  have  !  " 

"Why  yes,  ain't  that  enough  ?"  returns  Potter.  "I 
fished  that  out  of  my  trunk  last  night  to  bring  it  over  to 
you." 

Here  Lady  Annerley  cries  to  herself  :  "  Thank  God  !  " 
And  then  asks  aloud  :  "What  did  you  intend  to  do  with 

?.t  ?  " 

"  I  intended  to  frame  it  and  give  it  to  you,  that  you 
might  place  it  on  a  pedestal  in  your  father's  honor." 

"  For  my  father's  honor  let  me  make  a  better  use  of  it. 
Can  I  ?"  asks  Lady  Sarah,  fascinating  him  by  her  beauti 
ful  eyes. 

The  honest  old  gentleman  bows  to  her  with  back 
woods  grace,  and  this  great  English  lady  takes  from  his 
hand  the  document  and  mutters  :  "  True  generosity  con 
sists  in  forgetting  the  kindness.  My  father  would 
wish  his  also  forgotten  ! "  THEN  SHE  BURNS  UP  IN  A 

LIGHTED  TAPER  UPON  THE  TABLE  NEAR  HER  THE  ONLY 
EVIDENCE  THAT  STANDS  BETWEEN  THIS  POOR  OLD  MAN 
AND  A  BRITISH  PRISON. 

While  he  smiles  at  her  and  says,  as  the  last  ashes  fall 
upon  the  floor:  "My  dear,  you're  just  like  your  dead 
daddy — both  noble  !  " 

"  Noble!"  she  cries  to  him,  and  there  is  a  wildness  in 
her  eye  that  makes  Mr.  Potter  astonished,  for  she  is  in 
her  mind  cursing  herself  as  the  most  infamous  thing  on 
earth  ;  but  there  is  triumph  in  her  look  also.  She  knows 
that  there  is  but  one  salvation  for  the  man  standing  before 
her,  he  must  fly,  and  thinks  joyously  :  "  Charley  will  never 
know  my  father  committed  the  crime  that  made  his  father 
a  convict,  and  that  I  knew  it,  and  yet  made  him,  innccent 
as  he  was,  again  suffer  the  shame  and  agony  of  exile  ;  "  and 
last  of  all,  that  the  elder  Errol  can  never  prove  an  unjust 
conviction,  and  the  man  she  loves  is  separated  from 
Ethe*  Lincoln  forever. 

She  contrives  to  turn  the  conversation  upon  some  light 
subject,  however  ;  thinking  all  the  time  how  she  dare  tell 
this  old  man  who  looks  at  her  admiringly  the  awful  thing 


228  MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS. 

she  has  done  to  him  so  that  he  may  escape  in  time  ;  but 
has  no  opportunity,  for  he  has  got  upon  the  subject  of  his 
daughter,  and  is  thanking  Lady  Annerley  for  her  kindness 
to  that  young  lady. 

At  this  moment  Lubbins  knocks  at  the  door,  and  she 
going  to  it,  her  face  changes  to  an  ashy  pallor,  for  he 
announces  that  Sergeant  Brackett  is  downstairs  to  speak 
to  her  as  she  requested.  She  mutters  to  her  servant  to 
keep  the  detective  below,  and  now  she  is  forced  to  tell 
Potter  that  he  must  fly. 

She  comes  to  him  and  hurriedly  says  :  "  There  is  an 
English  police  officer  below.  Take  my  advice !  Go 
quickly  without  the  man  seeing  you  !  " 

"Why  ? "  returns  Potter,  staring  at  her,  for  her  manner 
is  significant. 

"  Because  he  will  arrest  you  !  " 

"Arrest  me?  That's  startling  !"  mutters  the  Texan, 
feeling  to  be  sure  his  pistols  are  all  right.  "  Arrest  the 
Honorable  Sampson  Potter  !  "  He  repeats  this  last  as  if 
it  were  incredible,  and  the  flame  of  battle  begins  to  light 
up  his  eyes. 

Here  Lady  Annerley  figuratively  knocks  him  down, 
pistols  and  all,  for  she  says  :  "  Not  Sampson  Potter,  but 
Sammy  Potts,  against  whom  thirty  years  ago  an  indictment 
was  found  by  an  English  jury  for  stealing  thirty  sover 
eigns  marked  to  detect  theft !  " 

"TARANTULAS!"  This  is  a  whoop  that  resounds 
through  the  room,  re-echoes  through  the  halls,  and 
reaches  Sergeant  Brackett.  He  has  never  heard  a  war- 
cry  before,  but  read  of  them.  He  knows  the  Texan  is 
upstairs,  and  hastily  and  tremblingly  descends  to  the 
reading  room,  and  Potter,  though  he  does  not  know  it,  is 
safe  from  immediate  arrest. 

"  Counterparts  of  the  one  on  your  chain  !  "  mutters 
Lady  Annerley,  playing  with  the  coin  and  showing  him 
the  distinguishing  mark,  for  after  giving  the  whoop  Mr. 
Potter  has  begun  to  rub  his  head  as  if  dazed. 

"But  you,  Lady  Sarah,  know  and  can  prove  that  I 
am  innocent,"  he  says  to  her  after  a  long  pause  of 
thought. 

"  I  know  that  thirty  years  ago,"  she  returns  pointedly, 
"a  jury  convicted  Ralph  Errol  of  stealing  seventy  of  those 
marked  coins,  and  made  him  a  convict !  " 


MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  229 

Here  Potter  mutters  :  "  Ralph  Errol !  "  and  seems  to 
be  recalling  something,  for  he  now  suddenly  cries  out :  "  I 
—I  remember  the  man  now  !  Good  Heaven  I  The  clerk 
your  father  was  paying  back  wages  to  that  morning! 
Then,  by  Jupiter  !  Ralph  Errol  is  innocent  also  !  Your 
father  was  putting  them  in  his  desk  !  Thar'd  been  big 
money  stolen  before — and  they  marked  to  detect  theft ! 
Then  your  father,  Lady  Annerley,  was  the  thief  of  'em 
all !  Your  noble  father,  Hold  Generosity,  put  his  crimes 
on  both  of  us!  "  With  this  he  gives  her  a  look  that  makes 
the  woman  before  him  cringe  ;  then  mutters  as  in  a  dream  : 
"And  Errol  suffered  the  prisonship  and  the  penal  settle 
ment,  and  poor  honest  little  Sammy  Potts  was  made  an 
infamous  habsconder." 

"  How  will  you  prove  all  this  ? "  sneers  her  ladyship. 

"  How  !  by  producing " 

"  Your  only  written  proof  is  burnt !  " 

Here  Potter  frightens  her  by  crying  :  "  By  you  !  oh  in 
famy  !  by  you!"  and  half  draws  a  pistol,  but  puts  it 
back  and  looks  at  her,  muttering  between  his  clenched 
teeth  :  "  If  you  war  a  man  !  " 

"  Yes  !  "  returns  Sarah  desperately,  "  you'd  murder 
me  as  you  did  your  other  victims  !  " 

"  Madam ! "  says  Mr.  Potter  solemnly,  with  a  profound 
bow,  "  in  my  time  I  have  killed  many  men,  but  never 
murdered one.  But  if  you  war  one,  I'd  execute  you  with 
no  disturbing  conscience  !  As  it  is,  I'll  tell  the  jury  on 
you  !  "  This  is  said  with  his  old-time  frontier  jauntiness, 
but  it  is  the  last  speech  he  makes  in  this  interview  as  a 
Texan. 

After  this,  as  she  holds  up  the  awful  certainty  of  Eng 
lish  justice  to  his  eyes,  he  thinks  of  his  daughter,  and 
the  more  humble  spirit  of  the  office  boy,  Sammy  Potts, 
comes  to  the  fire-eater  Sampson  Potter. 

From  that  time  on  she  crushes  him  with  awful  facts 
and  things  he  had  forgotten. 

He  mutters  to  her  :  "  I'll  swear  to  the  jury  your  father 
loaned  the  coins  to  me  !  " 

"  You  won't  get  a  chance  !  Prisoners  are  not  permitted 
to  testify  in  English  courts  !  " 

"  Great  Scott !  I  forgot  that  !  " 

"  Besides,"  here  her  voice  is  very  slow,  cutting  and 
sarcastic,  "  Sir  Jonas  Stevens  was  for  twenty-five  years 


230  MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 

a  great  banker.  During  that  time  the  business  world 
knows  that  he  never  lent  one  penny  without  undoubted 
and  ample  security.  Do  you  suppose  the  jury  would 
believe  on  your  mere  word,  against  the  record  of  .a  life 
time,  that  he  loaned  thirty  pounds  to  a  starving  office 
boy !  Oh  no  !  Old  Generosity  did  not  do  business  IN 
THAT  WAY  !  "  She  emphasizes  this  last  by  a  nasty  little 
laugh. 

"  No  !  "  groans  Potter.  "  Because  Hi  caught  im 
putting  his  crime  on  Ralph  H'errol  he  lent  me  hinfamy 
and  despair.  You  can  halways  borrow  them  without 
collaterals."  For  as  he  becomes  more  English  in  feeling 
he  throws  his  /is  about  with  more  Cockney  eccentricity. 
Then  he  turns  to  her  and  mutters:  "Lady  Hannerley,  you 
destroyed  the  evidence  of  it — but  it  is  not  too  late  to  do 
justice  now." 

"  It  is  too  late  for  me  to  do  anything  but  save  you 
from  an  English  prison." 

"An  Henglish  prison  \"  shudders  Potter,  as  he  remem 
bers  how  he  feared  them  when  a  boy  ;  but  here  suddenly 
an  awful  thought  shoots  through  him  and  he  screams  out 
at  her :  "  MY  DARTER  !  This  will  break  her  heart !  My 
darter,  Lady  Hannerley,  MY  DARTER  !  They'll  despise 
her  for  her  daddy's  sake.  Lady  Sarah,  repent,  con 
fess  !  "  and  goes  about  in  such  a  despair  that  she  shud 
ders  and  trembles  and  half  repents. 

But  he  goes  on  :  "  Think  of  my  darter  !  How  would 
you  feel  if  you  loved  a  man  to  have  your  daddy's  shame 
exposed  to  him  ? " 

And  she  cries  out  as  wildly  as  he,  taking  the  words  out 
of  his  mouth  :  "  To  HIM  !  To  THE  MAN  I  LOVE  !  No, 
no  ;  I  won't  have  that !  I  WON'T  HAVE  THAT  !  " 

Then  the  thought  of  Charley  Errol  coming  to  her, 
from  this  time  on  she  is  adamant.  She  says  very  coolly 
now  :  "  Mr.  Potts,  you  had  better  fly  !  Escape  from 
English  justice;  it  never  forgets!  Last  night  Ralph  Errol 
returned  to  England  as  an  Australian  magnate ;  last 
night  Ralph  Errol  as  a  ticket-of-leave  man  was  again 
driven  an  exile  from  his  country  to  Boulogne  ;  "  and  then 
cries  out  English  justice  to  him,  till  the  natural  respect 
all  Englishmen  have  for  law,  and  the  certainty  of  speedy 
conviction  and  punishment  to  all  criminals,  rich  or  poor, 
high  or  low,  which,  unfortunatel}',  does  not  exist  in 


MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS. 


America,  comes  back  to  Mr.  Potter,  and  he  gets  nearer 
•very  minute  to  the  days  of  his  youth. 

Seeing  the  effect  of  this  upon  him,  she  says  to  him  : 
"  You  must  fly  at  once  to  Paris,  then  on  to  Marseilles, 
where  you  can  get  a  steamer  for  Havana,  New  Orleans, 
or  Galveston  by  to-morrow  morning." 

<l  And  then  -  "  mumbles  Potter,  who  hardly  thinks 
for  himself  now. 

"  I  care  not  where,  so  long  as  you  are  not  seen  again, 
and  Lady  Sarah,  taking  Mr.  Potter  to  a  smaller  door  in 
the  room,  opens  it,  and  showing  him  a  back  stairway 
says,  looking  at  her  watch  :  "  The  express  train  will 
leave  for  Paris  in  fifteen  minutes.  In  the  hall  outside  my 
room  is  a  detective  armed  with  a  requisition  from  the 
English  Government  ;  but  by  this  you  can  avoid  him. 
Have  you  money  enough  for  your  flight  ?  It  would  not 
be  safe  to  visit  a  bank  in  Paris.  Permit  me,"  offering 
him  money. 

He  looks  at  her  for  a  moment,  though  m  a  dazed  con 
dition,  and  says  :  "  No,  thank  you,  my  lady  ;  no  more 
loans  from  the  Stevens  family  !  "  then  staggers  out. 

But  suddenly  returns,  and  touching  her  on  the  shoul 
der  as  she  looks  at  him  with  triumph,  whispers  to  her  in 
a  voice  she  hardly  knows,  it  is  so  husky  and  broken 
with  misery  :  "  One  half  second,  Lady  Annerley,  before 
I,  an  innocent  man,  fly  as  a  criminal  !—  Think  that  to 
protect  your  dead  father's  name  you  are  destroying  two 
living  ones."  For  at  this  time  Potter  believes  filial  de 
votion  to  be  the  motive  of  this  lady's  atrocious  conduct. 
"  Think  !  "  he  repeats  impressively,  "  that  when  you 
burnt  my  proof  of  innocence  in  that  flame,  you  not  only 
destroyed  the  happiness  of  my  darter  and  the  man  she 
loves,  but  the  union  of  Ethel  Lincoln  and  the  man  who 
loves  her  !  " 

"Oh!  that  was  why—'  she  gasps.  And  he  gasps 
back  at  her  :  "  Confess  !  In  justice  to  the  living,  in 
mercy  to  us  all  !  "  and  here  something  springs  into  his 
brain  and  makes  him  as  near  lunacy  as  a  sane  man  can 
be,  and  he  shrieks:  "  My  God  !  don't  let  my  darter  when 
she  lays  down  to-night  think  the  daddy  she  has  loved  and 
honored  since  she  was  born  a  thief  and  a  scoundrel  !  " 
And  if  it  had  been  Sampson  Potter  who  said  the  words, 
he  would  have  killed  Lady  Annerley  as  he  uttered  them; 


«3*  MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

but  being  now  only  poor  frightened  Sammy  Potts,  he 
merely  pleads  to  her. 

But  his  torture  makes  her  suffer,  and  she  cries  back  at 
him  to  go  before  she  has  the  officer  to  put  the  manacles 
upon  his  wrists. 

And  getting  a  little  spirit  he  mutters:  "But  when  I 
return  !  " 

At  this  she  in  haughty  triumph— for  she  has  now 
thrown  all  conscience  to  the  winds — laughs  at  him  and 
cries  :  "  Ah,  you  dare  not !  " 

"  But  if  I  do,  I'll  bring  you  what  you  want  least  in  all 
this  world,  and  that  injustice!" 

"  Beware  of  that  yourself.  Justice  !  ENGLISH  JUSTICE  ! 
Quick,  if  you  want  to  catch  the  train  !  The  detective  '11 
telegraph  !  Disguise  yourself  !  "  she  cries. 

And  so,  crushed  by  sudden  calamity,  the  savage  hero 
of  the  prairies,  who  entered  this  room  as  Sampson  Pot 
ter  the  Texan  ranger,  staggers  out  of  it  flying  from 
English  justice,  the  bogey  of  youth,  in  spirit  as  well  as 
name  the  meek  little  office-boy,  Sammy  Potts. 


BOOK   IV. 

MR,  POTTER  TAKES  THE  WAR-PATH. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE    AWAKING    OF    THE    LION, 

POOR  old  Potter  having  disappeared,  Lady  Annerley, 
radiant  with  triumph,  sends  for  Sergeant  Brackett.  That 
worthy  enters  very  cautiously,  being  shown  in  by  Lub- 
bins,  and  is  quite  relieved  to  find  no  one  in  the  apart 
ment  but  Lady  Annerley.  In  fact  he  had  hesitated 
about  coming  up  until  assured  by  the  ex-waiter  that  her 
ladyship  was  alone. 

Not  knowing  where  Sergeant  Brackett  had  obtained 
the  inspiration  by  which  he  had  exposed  her,  Lady  An 
nerley  has  a  much  higher  opinion  of  the  detective's 
acuteness  and  determination  than  he  deserves,  and  has 
sent  for  him  to  try  and  bribe  him  to  permit  Mr.  Potter 
to  escape  unarrested. 

She  proffers  the  officer  a  seat,  and  telling  him  she  has 
a  favor  to  ask  of  him,  finds  that,  persuaded  by  her,  he 
may  consent  to  permit  Sampson  Potter  to  escape  his  eye 
that  evening,  because  the  disgrace  and  shame  of  the 
father  will  break  that  lovely  American  girl's  heart,  and 
he  (Brackett)  has  a  heart  also. 

After  discovering  the  detective's  views  on  the  subject 
of  arresting  Mr.  Potter,  Lady  Annerley,  however,  makes 
a  great  mistake. 

"  I  presume  when  your  ladyship  told  him  his  boyish 
crime  was  discovered,  Potter,  the  Texan,  took  very  high 
ground,"  remarks  Brackett.  "  I  heard  an  exclamation  of 
his  downstairs.  He's  a  little  inclined  to  be  blood-thirsty, 
I  am  informed  I " 


*34  MR<    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 

"  Bloodthirsty  !  "  cries  Lady  Sarah,  laughing.  "  Samp 
son,  the  Texan,  might  be  ;  but  Sammy,  the  little  office 
boy,  was  very  meek."  Then  to  show  her  own  brill 
iancy  she  gives  Brackett  an  account  of  how  suddenly, 
crushed  by  the  discovery  of  his  boyhood  felony,  Potter, 
the  Texan,  had  become  frightened  of  that  fearful  English 
justice  he  remembered  in  his  youth  as  Sammy  Potts,  the 
office  boy,  and  had  fled  timidly  from  the  awe-inspiring 
detective.  "  At  this  very  moment  I  expect  he's  trem 
bling,  and  looking  round  corners  for  the  awful  English 
policeman." 

Here  Mr.  Brackett  becomes  awful,  indeed  ;  for  spring 
ing,  up  he  says  determinedly  :  "  Which  way  did  the  in 
fernal  scoundrel  go  ?  I'll  have  the  darbies  on  that  Sammy 
Potts  inside  of  five  minutes  !  "  and  would  start  off  very 
savagely  on  his  mission,  but  Lady  Annerley  throws  her 
self  before  the  door,  crying  :  "  Let  one  victim  escape  !  " 

"  Losing  a  criminal  looked  for  thirty  years  !  It  can't 
be  done,  your  ladyship,"  mutters  Brackett,  and  would 
push  past  her. 

"  It  shall  be  done  !  "  she  returns,  twining  her  arms 
about  the  detective  and  holding  him  with  hysterical  force. 
"  How  much  money  will  bribe  you  to  let  him  fly  ? " 

"  Don't  tempt  a  poor  man  !  " 

"  One  hundred  pounds  !  " 

"  I  darsn't  listen  to  you  !  "  and  Brackett  gets  from  her. 

But  while  they  have  been  struggling  Lady  Annerley 
has  been  thinking.  She  says  :  "  Go,  you  idiot  !  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  returns  the  officer,  taking  a 
last  look  at  her  before  pursuing  Sammy  Potts. 

"  I  mean  that  if  you  overtake  that  man — that  awful, 
bloodthirsty  Texan — you'll  be  dead  the  minute  he  sees 
you  ;  that's  all.  I  saw  his  pistols  !  " 

"  So  did  I !  "  says  Brackett,  returning  with  a  shudder. 

"  And  wanted  to  prevent  his  having  another  murder  on 
his  soul,  and  for  his  daughter's  sake  would  have  spent 
a  hundred  pounds  to  save  your  life  !  " 

"  You  have  saved  Sampson  Potter,  for  his  daughter's 
sake,"  returns  the  detective.  "  I  had  forgotten  Miss  Pot 
ter.  I'll— I'll  take  your  hundred  pounds ;  I've  a  heart, 
Lady  Annerley — and  couldn't  you  send  Lubbins  for  a 
drop  of  brandy  ?  " 

Here  Mr*   Brackett  sinks  into  a  chair,  a  cold  per- 


MR.    POTTER    OF   TEXAS.  235 

gpiration  upon  him   at  the  thought  of  what  ha  has  es 
caped. 

«  I'm  glad  I  induced  you,"  whispers  her  ladyship,  and 
ringing  the  bell,  sends  Mr.  Lubbins  for  what  the  detect- 
ive  wants  ;  then,  producing  a  purse  filled  with  Bank  of 
England  notes,  gives  the  sergeant  his  hundred  pounds. 
A  little  sneering  smile  is  on  her  face  while  doing  this, 
for  she  knows  that  this  bribe  to  permit  the  escape  of  a 
fugitive  from  justice  must  bind  the  detective  to  her  in 
terests,  soul  and  body. 

Her  smile  would  hardly  be  as  light,  however,  and 
Brackett's  tremors  would  be  more  intense  and  his  perspi 
ration  would  be  colder,  did  these  two  think  that  there  is 
but  one  thing  standing  between  them  and  death,  and  that 
is  the  restraining  influence  in  his  mind  of  his  daughter  ; 
for  through  the  door  Sammy  Potts  had  fled  in  terror  five 
minutes  before  Sampson  Potter  is  glaring  at  them,  a  drawn 
pistol  in  his  hand. 

This  has  all  been  brought  about  by  a  simple  revulsion 
in  his  nature.  Sammy  Potts  fled  from  English  justice ; 
but  getting  to  the  bottom  of  the  stairs,  his  mind,  that  had 
been  confused  by  this  sudden  and  crushing  blow,  begins 
to  become  clear.  He  commences  to  think,  and  as  he 
thinks  becomes  the  Texan  once  more.  He  remembers 
his  daughter,  and  that  if  he  flies  it  will  be  considered  a 
proof  of  his  guilt,  and  determines  to  come  back  and,  as 
he  puts  it  to  himself,  "  face  the  music  !  "  Then  he  mut 
ters  :  "  Arrest  the  Honorable  Sampson  Potter  ?  Will 
he  ?  "  and  getting  very  angry  at  the  idea,  concludes  he 
will  make  it  a  personal  matter  with  the  detective. 

Returning  up  the  stairs  he  reaches  the  door,  and  see 
ing  Lady  Annerley's  smile  of  triumph  and  the  money 
transaction  between  her  and  Brackett,  he  imagines  it  is 
some  payment  in  behalf  of  a  conspiracy  against  his  proving 
his  innocence,  and  were  it  not  for  the  thought  of  how  it 
would  affect  his  daughter,  the  payment  would  have  been 
completed  between  two  corpses. 

As  it  is,  he  watches  them  with  a  very  evil  eye,  as 
Lubbins  brings  in  Mr.  Brackett's  brandy  and  a  telegram 
to  Lady  Annerley. 

The  first  of  these  produces  an  apparently  pleasing  effect 
upon  the  police  officer  ;  the  second  nearly  sends  Lady 
Annerley  into  a  swoon. 


236  MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 

She  takes  it  nonchalantly  in  her  hand  as  if  it  were 
hardly  worth  reading  at  the  present  moment,  even  is 
about  to  lay  it  down  ;  but  reconsidering  the  matter, 
tears  open  the  envelope,  and  glances  over  it  carelessly. 
As  she  gazes,  there  comes  such  an  awful  horror  into  her 
face  that  Potter  as  he  looks  at  her  starts  ;  then  uttering 
a  faint  cry,  half  gasp,  half  moan,  Sarah  Annerley  falls 
down  in  a  chair.  Brackett  and  Lubbins  both  run  for 
water  and  revive  her.  She  looks  at  the  detective,  and 
suddenly  forcing  herself  to  strength,  after  a  moment's 
thought  hurriedly  writes  a  few  lines  and  directs  them. 
Then  she  says  :  "  Sergeant  Brackett,  this  is  a  matter  of 
life  and  death  with  me.  Can  I  depend  upon  you  ?  " 

"  I  am  at  your  ladyship's  service." 

"  Very  well  ;  here  is  all  the  money  you  can  possibly 
need.  Go  to  Paris  at  once,  and  immediately  deliver  this 
note  to  the  gentleman  to  whom  it  is  addressed.  In  return 
he  will  give  you  a  packet  ;  deliver  it  to  me  in  person, 
and  for  it  I  will  give  you  five  hundred  pounds  cash  ! " 

And  giving  the  detective  the  money  for  his  expenses 
and  the  note,  she  says :  "  Lubbins,  go  and  get  a  cab  for 
Sergeant  Brackett !  " 

This  the  servitor  does.  Then  she  whispers  in  such  a  low 
voice  to  Brackett  that  Potter,  at  the  distance  he  is  from 
them,  cannot  hear  it ;  but  it  is  to  this  effect,  that  the  officer 
is  first  to  obtain  the  packet  called  for  in  her  letter  at  any 
risk  ;  but  in  case  he  is  waylaid,  pursued,  or  followed  so 
that  it  is  impossible  for  him  to  deliver  the  packet  to  her, 
he  is  to  destroy  it  in  any  way  he  can. 

She  would  say  more,  but  during  this  time  an  idea  has 
flown  through  Potter's  mind,  and  to  their  ears  comes  his 
awful  voice  crying  :  "  That  letter  and  telegram,  or  your 
lives  !  " 

At  this,  with  a  shriek  Brackett  bolts  through  the  other 
door  that  is  open  ;  but  would  have  fallen  dead  upon  the 
threshold,  had  not  Lady  Annerley  sprung  between  the 
Texan  and  the  detective  crying  hoarsely :  "  Kill  me 
first  !  1  don't  want  to  live  !  "  Which  is  quite  the  truth, 
this  telegram  has  made  her  so  miserable. 

Potter  is  compelled  to  lower  his  pistol  or  shoot  her, 
and  Brackett  escapes  down  the  stairway,  flies  into  the 
cab,  and  drives  for  the  railway  station. 

The  next  ipstant,  with  a  snarl  of  rage  Sampson  Potter 


MR.   POTTER   OF    TEXAS.  237 

lays  his  hands  in  violence  for  the  first  time  in  his  life 
upon  a  woman.  He  cries :  "  Rattlesnakes  and  centi 
pedes  !  "  and  seizes  Lady  Annerley  by  the  wrists,  for  she 
has  flown  back  to  the  table  and  is  burning  by  means  of 
the  lighted  taper  the  telegram. 

Without  any  ceremony  he  crushes  the  fire  out  with  his 
naked  hands,  then,  holding  her  two  little  wrists  together 
in  one  strong  fist,  with  the  other  opens  her  delicate 
fingers,  and  though  she  struggles  desperately  and  vicious 
ly,  takes  from  them  the  remnants  of  the  dispatch  and 
tries  to  read  them.  While  she,  reduced  to  woman's  last 
weapons,  bursts  into  tears  and  calls  him  a  coward. 

There  are  only  two  words  that  he  can  distinguish,  for 
Lady  Annerley  had  fought  to  destroy  the  message  with 
her  whole  heart,  but  these  are  enough  to  astound  him. 
The  first  is  its  address,  Paris  ;  the  second,  part  of  its  sig 
nature,  which  he  gazes  at  amazed,  for  it  is  that  of  his  son, 
the  lieutenant  in  the  American  navy. 

"  What  deviltry  have  you  been  working  on  him  ? "  he 
cries  to  her.  But  she  answers  only  by  sneers  and  mocking 
daughter,  and  mutters  :  "  Why  don't  you  kill  me  ?  Cow 
ard,  look  at  your  marks  upon  my  wrists  !  " 

Then  he  suddenly  cries  to  her  :  "  By  the  Etarnal !  You 
want  me  to  miss  that  Paris  train  !  "  and  bolts  from  the 
room,  leaving  her  astonished  at  his  acuteness,  but  also 
wringing  her  hands  and  muttering  despairingly  ;  "When 
I  had  made  it  certain  that  nothing  could  now  show  my 
awful  baseness  to  my  love,  to  have  this,  the  thing  I  had 
thought  destroyed  in  burning  Alexandria,  the  packet 
I  gave  to  Errol,  arise  to  strike  me  down  forever  in  his 
heart ! " 

Mr.  Brackett  being  incited  by  Lubbins'  remark  of 
"  Quick  !  He's  coming  downstairs  !  "  drives  to  the 
railway  station  shrieking  to  the  hackman  :  "  Vite  /  Allez  !  " 
and  various  -other  French  terms,  till  that  individual  says 
sternly  :  "  Begorrah,  one  would  think  yer  was  ashamed  of 
your  own  language  !  "  Though  he  remarks  soothingly  on 
being  paid  his  fare  at  the  depot :  "  Mayhaps  your  parlez- 
vousing  did  shove  us  on  a  little  faster ;  the  horse  is 
Frinch  !  " 

Not  stopping  to  discuss  the  philosophy  of  this  propo 
sition,  Brackett  is  about  to  hurry  into  the  crowd,  thinking 
that  if  pursued  he  has  less  chance  of  detection  in  the 


MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS. 

throng  ;  when  the  hack-driver  stops  him  by  :  "  IB  this 
your  baste  ? "  And  looking  down  the  detective  sees  poor 
little  Snapper  come  panting  along,  running  with  all  his 
small  might  and  main  after  his  master. 

"  Lord  !  I  must  have  been  frightened  to  have  forgot 
him  ! "  mutters  the  sergeant,  picking  up  the  little  crea 
ture  and  putting  it  in  his  overcoat  pocket.  Then  diving 
into  the  station  he  buys  his  ticket  for  Paris,  and  hurries  to 
the  train.  Selecting  a  compartment  with  only  one  vacant 
seat  he  takes  it,  knowing  that  Potter,  if  following  him, 
will  at  least  be  compelled  to  occupy  another.  As  dogs 
are  not  allowed  in  passenger  carriages,  Mr.  Brackett  keeps 
his  little  pet  in  his  pocket,  soothing  him  to  quiet  and 
sleep  by  giving  ^  him  one  of  his  hands  to  lick,  which 
Snapper  does  with  much  vigor,  gusto,  and  affection. 
This  continues  till  the  train,  giving  a  whistle,  gets  under 
way,  and  seeing  nothing  of  his  awful  pursuer,  Sergeant 
Brackett  feels  relieved  and  begins  to  go  over  in  his 
mind  his  instructions  from  Lady  Annerley. 

In  this,  however,  he  is  mistaken,  for  at  the  very  last 
moment  a  cab,  its  horses  in  a  foam,  dashes  up  to  the  ter 
minus,  and  Mr.  Potter,  yelling  to  the  driver  :  "  Pay  you 
when  I  get  back  !  "  bolts  for  the  train. 

Unheeding  the  execrations  of  his  cabman,  who,  not 
understanding  English  shrieks  after  this  frontier  robber 
in  French^  Mr.  Potter  forces  his  way  to  the  train  and 
boards  it  just  as  it  moves  out  of  the  depot,  not  noticing 
though  nearly  running  over,  little  Van  Cott,  who  has 
come  there  with  the  intention  of  going  to  Paris  to 
escape  him. 

On  seeing  his  dreaded  enemy,  the  poor  fugitive  gives  a 
frightened  shudder  and  concludes  it  is  best  not  to  go,  at 
least  upon  that  train  ;  then,  noticing  the  downcast  though 
excited  appearance  of  the  Texan,  a  new  idea  comes  to 
him.  Muttering  to  himself :  '•  By  George,  I've  run  old 
Potter  out  of  Boulogne  ! "  he  makes  up  his  mind  to  re 
main  in  town  over  night,  and  going  up  to  the  Hotel  des 
Bains,  takes  a  dinner  and  drink  or  two  with  great  enjoy 
ment.  These  so  excite  him  that  he  begins  to  persuade 
himself  that  it  is  owing  entirely  to  fear  of  his  mighty  self 
that  the  Texan  has  fled  in  such  a  hurry,  and  he  makes  a 
night  of  it ;  his  last  distinguishable  words  to  the  waiters  as 
they  put  him  to  bed  being  :  "  I — awh — hie — would  have 


MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  239 

spared   the   old    man    for    his  daughter — she's — hie — a 
duced  fine  gal !  " 

Mr.  Potter,  jammed  in  between  an  Alsacian  who  speaks 
German-French,  and  a  Magyar  whose  dialogue  is  Hun- 
garian-German,  finds  that  he  can  gain  little  information 
from  either  as  to  the  route  to  Paris  or  how  he  shall  pro 
ceed  after  he  gets  there. 

Fortunately,  finding  in  his  pocket  a  guide-book  that 
Colonel  Cottontree  had  advised  him  to  buy  in  London 
the  night  before,  he  looks  this  over,  and  coming  upon  a 
bill  of  fare  in  conjoined  French  and  English  thinks  rather 
contentedly  that  they  can't  starve  him  as  long  as  the 
waiters  can  read.  Then  his  commissariat  arranged  for, 
like  other  great  generals  Potter  proceeds  to  lay  out  the 
plan  of  his  campaign. 

He  doesn't  know  where  his  son  is  to  be  found  in  Pans, 
otherwise  he  would  drive  to  his  address  at  once.  The 
young  man's  last  communication  was  a  letter  sent  to  the 
address  of  his  London  bankers  and  received  by  him  on 
his  arrival  from  America.  The  place  from  which  it  had 
been  mailed  Mr.  Potter  forgets,  but  imagines  it  was 
Genoa,  and  thinks  that  too  far  off  to  trouble  his  head 
about,  as  he  knows  it  is  in  Italy  or  Africa,  or  somewhere 
down  south. 

Then  the  guide-book  reminds  him  of  Colonel  Cotton- 
tree,  and  he  thinks  that  if  any  one  can  find  his  son  on 
sudden  notice  in  Paris  Cottontree's  the  man,  and  so 
arranges  in  his  mind  this  plan  of  action  :  First,  to  make 
sure  that  Brackett  is  on  the  train  ;  if  so,  to  follow  him  cau 
tiously,  being  certain  that  he  will  lead  him  to  his  son  ; 
second,  should  he  by  any  chance  lose  track  of  the  detective, 
to  go  to  Colonel  Cottontree  and  get  him  to  find  the  lieu 
tenant  for  him.  For  Mr.  Potter  is  now  morally  sure  that 
this  telegram  from  his  son  is  vitally  connected  in  some 
unknown  way  with  the  motives  and  action  of  Lady 
Annerley  ;  though,  rack  his  brain  as  much  as  he  likes,  he 
cannot  guess  how.  So  he  dismisses  the  matter  from  his 
mind  muttering  :  "  Tarnation  !  This  beats  the  fifteen 
puzzle— this  does !  "  Referring  to  an  invention  that 
made  a  number  of  sane  men  lunatics  about  that  time, 
and  for  which  Mr.  Potter  has  a  profound  admiration. 

During  these  reflections  the  train,  which  is  a  tidal  ex 
press  connecting  with  the  Folkestone  boat,  and  which 


MR.   POTTER  OP   TEXAS, 


reaches  Paris  in  a  little  over  four  hours  and  a  halt 
dashes  up  the  valley  of  the  Liane. 

Mr.  Potter  consults  his  watch  and  discovers  it  is  just 
after  5  p.  M.  ;  then  examines  his  guide-book,  and  with 
some  careful  study  concludes  that  it  should  arrive  in 
Paris  about  half  past  nine,  and  will  probably  stop  at 
Abbeville,  Amiens,  and  Creil  before  reaching  the  French 
capital.  He  is  not  very  sure  of  this,  but  has  a  kind  of 
hazy  idea  this  will  be  about  his  schedule,  as  he  terms  it. 
He  makes  up  his  mind  to  become  certain  at  Abbeville 
that  Brackett  is  on  board,  and  the  train  stopping  at  Mon- 
treuil  Verton  a  moment,  he  nearly  has  an  accident,  as 
alighting  for  that  purpose  he  is  almost  left  behind  ;  the 
halt  being  only  for  a  few  seconds.  At  Abbeville  he  makes 
the  attempt  again,  but  as  Brackett  keeps  close  in  his 
compartment,  and  it  is  now  considerably  after  six  o'clock 
and  growing  dark,  does  not  succeed.  But  Brackett  from 
his  seat  sees  and  recognizes  Mr.  Potter  with  a  shudder, 
as  the  Texan  strides  up  the  platform  glaring  into  the 
carriages. 

All  this  trouble  and  non-success  makes  his  pursuer  very 
angry ;  the  continual  Babel  of  French  and  foreign  lan 
guages,  none  of  which  he  can  understand,  aggravates  and 
annoys  him  ;  enforced  silence  makes  him  feel  very  help 
less  and  irritates  him  ;  and  by  the  time  the  train  runs 
into  the  brightly  lighted  station  at  Amiens  the  American 
is  in  the  worst  humor  he  has  been  in  that  day,  which  is 
saying  a  great  deal.  He  glares  impatiently  out  of  the 
window  of  his  compartment,  for  the  guide-book  suggests 
refreshments  at  this  place,  and  refreshments  always  mean 
delay.  And  now  he  is  determined  to  find  the  skulking 
varmint  if  he's  alive  and  about. 

In  this  rather  difficult  matter,  in  a  large,  pressing, 
surging  crowd,  he  is  aided  by  accident.  Mr.  Brack 
ett  has  thought  the  matter  over,  and  concluded  it  may 
be  safer  to  visit  Paris  by  another  train  rather  than  the 
one  that  carries  Mr.  Potter.  As  soon  as  his  compartment 
is  opened  he  has  sprung  from  it  and  is  making  for  the 
exit  to  the  station.  The  Texan,  locked  up  in  his  compart 
ment,  sees  him,  and  feeling  very  much  like  a  chained  rat- 
terrier  smelling  a  fleeing  rat,  raises  such  an  awful  hub 
bub  for  the  guard  to  open  his  door  that  the  gatekeeper 
in  charge  of  the  exit  hears  the  row,  and  thinking  it  an 


MR.  POTTER  OF   TEXAS.  §4* 

escaping  pickpocket  closes  the  doors,  and  Brackett  can 
not  leave  the  station. 

This  movement  has  been  noticed  by  Potter,  and  the 
moment  he  gets  out  of  his  carriage  he  charges  to  the  exit, 
and  remains  there  cutting  off  retreat,  while  the  detective 
buries  himself  deeply  in  the  crowd,  and  slinking  back  to 
another  compartment,  thinks  in  a  downcast  mood  how 
he  will  escape  Mr.  Potter  in  Paris.  He  makes  no  at 
tempt  to  leave  the  train  at  Creil,  and  so  pursued  and 
pursuer  come  into  the  great  illuminated  Gare  Chemin 
de  Per  du  Nord  at  an  hour  when  Paris  is  full  of  light, 
life,  and  that  vivacity  of  movement  and  action  for  which 
the  capital  of  France  is  noted. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

A   NIGHT   IN    PARIS. 

MR.  POTTER  alights  with  a  very  serious  task  before  him  ; 
that  is,  in  a  vast  and  unknown  city,  ignorant  of  its  lan 
guage,  geography,  and  customs,  to  follow  a  man  who  is 
trying  to  avoid  him,  and  losing  track  of  the  man  to  obtain 
an  interview  with  his  son,  with  whose  habits,  usual  re 
sorts  and  address,  in  this  new  and  unexplored  metropo 
lis,  he  is  entirely  unacquainted.  No  person  is  by  edu 
cation  and  accomplishment  less  fitted  for  such  a  labor 
than  Mr.  Potter;  and  yet  no  man,  by  natural  ^  shrewd 
ness,  wiry  physique,  and  undaunted  determination,  bet 
ter  equipped'  for  its  successful  performance  than  the 
Texan.  He  mutters  to  himself  :  "  I've  tracked  Injuns 
on  the  prairies,  and  can  trail  a  policeman  in  Pan>/  "  For 
he  has  been  trying  to  increase  his  French  vocabulary  in 
the  past  few  hours,  and  has  added  "  Pane  "  to  the  list. 

However,  the  crowd  is  so  vast  that  there  is  great  dan 
ger  of  his  never  even  beginning  the  trail  ;  for  after  leav 
ing  the  train  he  has  found  it  impossible  to  get  his  eye 
upon  Brackett  ;  but  at  last,  as  he  is  swept  out  of  the  ter 
minus,  he  catches  sight  of  little  Snapper  frisking  about, 
delated  to  escape  from  the  detective's  pocket,  and  is 
ho  .ified  to  perceive  the  sergeant  about  to  get  into  a  cab, 
It  Potter  spoke  the  language  of  the  country,  to  call  an 


A 


*4»  MR,   POTTER  OP  TEXAS, 

other  cab  and  bid  the  man  follow  Brackett  would  be  the 
work  of  an  instant ;  but  the  Texan,  with  a  groan,  real- 
izes  he  doesn't  speak  French  well  enough  for  such  intri 
cate  instructions. 

Brackett  has  stepped  into  the  cab  with  Snapper  ;  the 
driver  is  about  to  whip  up ;  in  another  moment  he  will 
be  gone.  With  a  quickness  born  of  despair  Potter  lifts 
up  his  voice  and  hails  the  departing  cabman.  Though 
half  a  hundred  jehus  try  to  seize  upon  him  for  their 
own,  he  bolts  through  them,  pursuing  the  cab  on  foot, 
the  driver  of  which,  with  Parisian  shrewdness,  preferring 
two  fares  to  one,  pulls  up  his  horse,  and  with  a  smile  on 
his  face  waits  for  the  Texan  to  overtake  him. 

This  he  does  ;  but  as  he  comes  along  Brackett  puts  out 
his  head,  and  seeing  him,  bolts  from  the  cab  and  goes  hur 
riedly  along  the  street  on  foot,  and  Potter,  noting  this,  goes 
on  after  him,  caring  nothing  for  the  excited  and  astonished 
exclamations  of  the  unfortunate  driver  who,  bereft  of  both 
fares  instead  of  gaining  another,  follows  along  also,  with 
varying  polite  entreaties  and  passionate  blasphemies. 

So  they  make  a  curious  procession,  Sergeant  Brackett, 
with  a  pale  face,  marching  on  the  sidewalk  at  the  front ; 
little  Snapper  dancing  along  all  about  his  master  ;  and  be 
hind  them  Potter  the  Texan,  with  a  grim  and  determined 
scowl  upon  his  countenance,  though  there  is  a  twinkle  in 
his  eye  that  sometimes  rolls  itself  back  toward  the  hack- 
man.  This  gentleman  drives  close  to  the  curbstone  and 
just  at  the  American's  rear,  at  one  moment  piteously 
begging  :  "  Eh,  bien,  messieurs !  Vous  mavez  pris ! 
Gardez  moil  Jc  suis  engager.  Faites  votre  course  avec 
moi  !  "  waving  his  hand,  and  smiling  a  Gallic  smile  ;  at 
the  next  bursting  forth  into  " Sacrh cochons I'"  and  other 
more  awful  Parisian  execrations  which  he  makes  vivid 
with  a  gesticulation  wild  as  that  of  a  jumping-jack  and 
peculiar  to  the  boulevarts. 

So  they  come  along  the  Rue  Saint  Quentin  to  the  Rue 
de  La  Fayette,  at  the  corner  of  which  the  driver  can  fol 
low  no  further,  for  he  goes  into  a  kind  of  French  frenzy, 
and  explodes  into  a  million  of  wicked  vocal  fireworks.  ^ 

Turning  along  this  street  Sergeant  Brackett  follows  it, 
as  well  as  Potter  can  make  put  from  a  hasty  glanre  at 
the  moon,  which  is  now  up,  in  a  generally  southwesteJy 
course  ;  and  he  is  nearly  right,  for  the  detective  has  been 


MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS.  343 

in  Paris  before,  and  is  going  toward  the  Place  de  !  Optra 

and  fashionable  boulevarts. 

The  night  is  a  beautiful,  balmy,  autumn  one,  and  Pans 
is  in  its  glory.  The  shops  are  well  lighted,  and  as  they 
come  near  the  public  centers  the  crowd  grows  larger  and 
Brackett  more  difficult  to  keep  in  sight.  In  fact,  were 
it  not  for  Snapper,  who  dances  aboat  in  the  gaslight,  Pot 
ter  would  have  lost  the  detective  long  ago. 

This  the  Texan  perceives,  and  mutters  :  "  A  few  more 
parley  vous  and  I'm  a  goner  !  "  but  now  finding  in  his 
pocket  a  piece  of  forgotten  cord  that  had  been  econom 
ically  put  by  from  some  dry  goods  package,  a  flash  of 
hope  comes  to  him.  He  runs  quickly  forward,  and  seiz 
ing  little  Snapper,  who  is  by  no  means  afraid  of  him,  re 
membering  him  as  the  man  who  made  nice  noises  in  the 
shooting  gallery,  ties  this  string  to  the  terrier's  collar, 
for  he  is  determined  to  track  Brackett  about  Pans  by  scent, 
and  here  Is  the  hound  ready  made  to  his  hand. 

Missing  his  dog  the  detective  looks  back,  and  partly 
seeing,  partly  guessing  Potter's  design,  and  knowing 
Snapper's  acute  powers,  now  hurries  forward  with  a  speed 
born  of  despair.  In  this  way  they  go  over  a  mile,  and 
now  approach  the  Place  de  V Opera,  the  crowd  every 
moment  becoming  larger  and  giving  Potter  more  and 
more  trouble.  And  here  a  cruel  accident  happens  to  the 
Texan  ;  Snapper,  his  hound,  who  has  been  running  up  to 
this  time  stanch  and  true,  encounters  and  must  stop  to 
smell  another  terrier,  which  delays  him  so  much  that,  tak 
ing  advantage  of  a  string  of  carriages,  Brackett  crosses  the 
street,  gets  them  between  him  and  Potter,  and  now  en 
tirely  disappears. 

Almost  forcing  his  way  through  the  crowd  the  I  exan 
crosses  also,  but  after  looking  about  a  little  time  without 
success,  mutters  to  himself :  "  If  it  hadn't  been  for  my 
darter  I'd  have  let  daylight  through  that  policeman  long 

Then  he  resigns  himself  to  the  guidance  of  little  Snap 
per  who  goes  smelling  about,  and  to  Potter's  delight 
takes  up  a  trail  which  leads  through  the  Place  de  r  Opera. 
At  the  end  of  this  Snapper  comes  out  on  the  Boulevart 
des  Capucines,  and  Potter  of  Texas  gives  almost  a  gasp  at 
Paris  at  night  in  its  glory. 

The  lighted  cafes,  the  numerous  carriages,  cabs  ana 


244  MR-    POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

omnibuses,  the  gayly  dressed  men  and  women — the 
whole  holiday  appearance  of  everybody  who  is  out  of 
doors  this  night — and  this  is  one  of  Paris'  out-of-door 
evenings — amaze  the  Texan,  who  has  never  seen  the  like 
before  and  thinks  it  a  kind  of  dream  of  fairy  land.  He 
mutters  something  about  a  town  on  a  picnic,  and  then 
more  gloomily  makes  a  remark  about  a  needle  in  a  hay 
stack. 

Noting  that  even  Snapper,  disconcerted  by  the  un 
usual  scene,  can  apparently  follow  his  master  no  further, 
he  picks  up  the  dog  and  puts  it  in  his  overcoat  pocket,  for 
the  string  attached  to  the  little  creature's  collar  ties,  en 
tangles,  and  trips  people  up,  and  they  do  not  like  it.  Thus 
jostled  by  the  surging  throng,  and  far  from  his  bearings 
and  moorings,  Mr.  Potter  lifts  up  his  eyes  despairingly 
and  stands  gazing  around  for  an  American  face,  knowing 
fun  and  his  countrymen  are  never  very  far  apart. 

But  after  waiting  a  few  minutes  none  seem  to  come 
along,  and  being  extremely  hungry,  Mr.  Potter  looks  about 
him  for  an  eating-house,  and  finding  the  Caft  de  la  Paix 
right  beside  him,  enters  that  gorgeous  restaurant. 

He  returns  the  waiter's  polite  smiles.  Then  one  sug 
gesting  :  "  Cabinet  particulier  !"  nods  his  head  and  mut 
ters  :  "  Oui !  Bring  it  quick  !  "  and  is  immediately  shown 
upstairs  into  a  private  room  in  the  entresol. 

"  They're  remarkably  polite,"  thinks  Potter ;  "  must 
have  heard  of  me  somewhere  ;  perhaps  they  know  my 
darter.  She's  been  humming  about  these  regions." 

He  is,  however,  brought  from  these  reflections  quite 
suddenly.  The  waiter,  after  a  preliminary  flourish,  pro 
duces  a  bill  of  fare  and  pushes  it  under  Potter's  nose. 

"  I  thought  I  ordered  something  downstairs,"  mutters 
the  old  gentleman  ;  but  the  servant  apparently  insisting, 
he  produces  his  guide-book  and  selects  from  its  bill  of 
fare  in  joint  English  and  French  what  he  wants,  pointing 
out  the  dishes  to  the  waiter.  Next  getting  hold  of  a 
wine  list  he  puts  his  finger  on  Veuve  Cliquot  and  says  : 
"  That's  the  ticket !  That'll  knock  the  blues  out  of 
me !  "  Then  to  indicate  speed,  he,  by  gesticulation, 
shows  himself  to  be  very  hungry,  by  compressing  and 
rubbing  his  abdomen. 

This,  combined  with  the  Texan's  morose  but  excited 
expression,  makes  the  waiter  frightened  ;  he  thinks  Potter 


MR,    POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  24S 

very  sick  and  is  about  to  rush  for  a  doctor ;  but  at  last 
understanding,  and  word  being  brought  to  the  office  that 
there  is  an  American  in  the  establishment,  Amadie,  a 
gar$on  who  thinks  he  speaks  English,  is  sent  to  Mr. 
Potter,  who  now  gets  what  he  wants  and  makes  a  very 
fair  meal  of  it,  only  being  seriously  interrupted  once,  and 
that  is  by  Snapper. 

Being  hungry,  also,  when  the  meat  is  brought  on,  the 
dog  becomes  so  fearfully  restless  and  whiningly  uneasy 
that  Potter,  thinking  the  beast  smells  his  master,  jumps 
hurriedly  up,  searches  the  room,  and  wanders  savagely 
about  the  passage-ways.  Noting  at  last  that  Snapper 
only  becomes  excited  as  he  approaches  the  provisions, 
Potter,  with  a  sudden  guffaw,  guesses  the  trouble  with 
the  dog,  and  transfers  him  from  his  pocket  to  the  din- 
ing-table.  He  and  the  intelligent  little  creature  take 
their  meal  together,  Snapper  performing  such  tricks  of 
gastronomy,  and  using  his  teeth  so  vigorously,  his  eyes 
so  thankfully,  and  his  ears  so  vivaciously  that  he  literally 
eats  his  way  into  the  Texan's  big  heart.  But  now  Potter 
looks  at  his  watch  ;  it  is- after  ten  o'clock,  and  he  feels  he 
must  be  moving. 

In  fact  the  whole  performance  so  far  has  been  a  rapid 
one.  Brackett  had  come  most  of  the  way  down  the  Rue 
de  La  Fayette  at  as  near  a  run  as  a  walk  could  be,  and 
Potter  has  been  waited  upon  quite  promptly  and  eaten 
with  American  rapidity,  but  he  feels  that  it  is  absolutely 
necessary  to  find  Colonel  Cottontree  at  once.  So,  after 
paying  his  bill,  he  stimulates  Amadie's  English  by  a 
couple  of  francs,  and  showing  the  waiter  his  friend's 
card,  says :  "  Cab."  That  worthy  reads  the  address, 
No.  34  Boulevart  Malesharbes  ;  then  delights  Mr.  Potter 
by  running  out  onto  the  sidewalk  with  him,  calling  a 
voiture,  and  giving  the  necessary  explanations  to  the 
driver. 

The  Texan  is  now  whirled  along  the  Boulevarts  des 
Capucines  and  Madeleine,  and  turning  a  corner,  in  about 
three  minutes  is  at  his  friend's  address.  But  here  another 
obstacle  confronts  and  confounds  the  wanderer.  Colonel 
Cottontree  is  out,  and  so  is  his  servant.  Potter,  after 
great  trouble,  jabber,  and  gesticulation,  discovering  this 
from  the  concierge,  concludes  not  to  wait  for  his  friend, 
as  he  knows  Cottontree  is  an  all-night  man,  never  re- 


*4$  MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

turning  to  his  domicile  till  the  small  hours  of  the 
ing. 

Entering  the  cab  again  he  calls  out  savagely,  "  Back  ! 
Home  !  "  for  he  has  an  idea  born  of  desperation  to  once 
more  consult  Amadie,  the  waiter.  Not  understanding  his 
order,  the  driver  thinks  he  can  do  no  better  than  show 
Mr.  Potter  the  sights  of  Paris,  and  proceeds,  in  spite  of 
growls,  imprecations,  and  threatenings,  to  give  that  gentle 
man  a  drive  in  the  Champs  Elys/es. 

Here  the  Texan,  though  foaming  at  the  mouth  with 
rage,  gazes  around  in  a  kind  of  astonished  ecstasy.  The 
flaring  gas  jets,  electric  lights,  sparkling  fountains,  and 
beautiful  and  elegantly  costumed  women  make  this  pleas 
ure  garden  of  Paris  seem  like  a  fairy ffete  this  perfect  Oc 
tober  evening  to  his  frontier  eyes.  He  mutters  to  himself 
faintly:  "  Great  Scottie  !  I'll  come  back  here  if  I  live." 

Then  thinks  :  "  This  is  too  gay  and  festive  a  spree  for 
all  our  boys  to  be  out  of  it,"  and  disregarding  the  dis 
senting  gestures  of  the  driver,  he  jumps  out  of  his  cab, 
and  would  proceed  on  foot,  hoping  to  meet  some  face 
that  looks  as  if  it  came  from  across  the  Atlantic,  or  to 
hear  some  words  that  have  a  meaning  to  his  mind,  did 
not  Snapper  at  this  moment  astonish  him. 

He  had  placed  the  little  dog  beside  him  in  the  cab,  and 
Snapper  had  enjoyed  the  picturesque  sight  also.  Potter 
upon  alighting  is  about  to  replace  the  animal  in  his  pocket, 
when  with  a  low  cry  the  terrier  flies  suddenly  into  the 
alluring  entrance  of  a  caft  chantant,  and  bolting  after  his 
whilom  pet,  the  Texan  finds  himself  in  the  Des  Arnbas- 
sadeurs. 

No  one  demands  an  admission  fee,  and  Potter  amazed 
beams  upon  the  gorgeous  scene  murmuring :  "  I've 
heard  the  Fran£ais  were  great  at  doing  the  polite ;  but 
curse  me  if  I  ever  guessed  afore  this  they  was  so  all-fired 
generous!" 

Then  pursuing  Snapper,  who  is  about  to  run  down  the 
aisle,  he  picks  him  up  and  secures  him  in  his  pocket,  and 
next  utters  a  grunt  of  surprised  delight,  for  there,  a 
dozen  rows  ahead  of  him,  is  Sergeant  Brackett,  of  the 
British  detective  force,  about  to  leisurely  sit  down  and 
gaze  at  the  fascinating  pirouettes  of  a  ballet-girl  perform 
ing  on  the  stage  of  this  open-air  theater. 

This  unexpected  good  fortune  comes  about  from  the 


MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  247 

simple  reason  that  Mr.  Brackett,  having  called  upon  Lieu 
tenant  Potter,  has  found  that  young  gentleman  out,  and 
is  now  killing  a  little  time  before  calling  again.  It  makes 
the  Texan,  however,  feel  so  comfortable,  that,  after  re 
solving  to  quietly  wait  and  follow  the  sergeant  out  and 
then  if  he  again  attempts  to  run  away,  let  daylight 
through  him,  he  sinks  into  a  chair,  and  a  waiter  being 
already  at  his  elbow,  orders  a  drink. 

Brackett,  interested  in  the  ballet-girl,  has  not  observed 
how  the  affection  of  his  dog  has  once  more  betrayed  him 
to  his  enemy,  and  would  probably  be  entirely  defeated, 
but  now  the  peculiar  customs  of  the  place  come  to  the 
detective's  assistance,  and  again  save  him  on  this  night  in 


entrance  to  this  Temple  of  Thespis,  Terpsichore 
and  Thalia  is  free,  but  it  is  the  habit  of  every  one  entering 
its  open  portal  to  order  a  drink,  cigar,  or  something  of  t 
sort    the  price  whereof  varies  with  the  location  of  the 
seat  the  individual  selects.     To  those  near  the  stage  the 
charge  per  drink  is  three  francs,  about  the  center  of  the 
house  the  tariff  falls  to  two  francs,  while  to  people  seated 
modestly  in  the  rear  the  price  is  only  one  franc  f 
same  liquor  or  cigar. 

The  visitors  apparently  pay  for  refreshments,  but  really 

pav  for  seats. 

Now  Mr  Potter  has  taken  a  chair  in  the  modest  rear 
of  the  place,  and  his  first  drink  only  costs  him  one  franc. 
But,  partly  to  get  a  better  view  of  the  performing  ladies, 
whose  charms  begin  to  appeal  to  his  gallant  Western 
heart  and  partly  to  keep  a  closer  look-out  upon  Brackett, 
who  has  also  moved  his  seat  apparently  to  more  closely 
inspect  the  allurements  of  the  stage  beauties,  the  Texan 
begins  to  move  about  in  a  free  and  easy  way  from  one 
unoccupied  chair  to  another.  And  now  his  drinks  begin  to 
rise  in  price  in  a  manner  that  astonishes,  irritates,  and 
makes  combative  Mr.  Potter,  who  is  very  generous^  but 
doesn't  like  to  be  imposed  upon  as  a  fool  and  won  t  b 
swindled  nor  robbed. 

\s  his  second  waiter  charges  him  two  francs  tor  tne 
same  bad  whisky  that  a  moment  before  had  cost  him  but 
one,  he  begins  to  get  angry  ;  and  when  the  third  insists 
in  an  impudent  and  threatening  way  that  whisky  has 
gone  up  once  more,  and  the  tariff  is  now  three  francs  pet 


MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS. 


glass,  and  would  almost  use  force  to  collect  it,  Mr  Potter 
astonishes  the  Cafd  des  Ambassadeurs. 

The  lady  singing  upon  the  stage  stops  her  song  with  a 
tearful  shriek,  the  orchestra  gives  one  discordant  bray 
and  is  silent,  the  spectators  arise  in  dismay,  for  the 
Honorable  Sampson  has  carried  the  waiter,  a  brawny  Al- 
sacian,  into  the  center  aisle  of  the  establishment,  where 
he  can  have  more  room  for  the  business,  and  is  literally 
wiping  the  floor  with  the  unfortunate  Frenchman,  whose 
voice  rises  up  over  the  tumult  in  piteous  appeals  of  aei- 
tated  terror. 

But  Potter  here  suddenly  leaves  his  victim  and  would 
Mt  for  the  door  himself,  for  Brackett  has  seen  and  rec 
ognized  him,  and  with  a  wild  look  upon  his  face  is  flying- 
out.  y 

Impressed  by  Potter's  efforts  to  escape,  several  of  the 
fighting  brigade  of  the  establishment,  that  in  American 
slang  would  be  termed  "bouncers,"  bar  his  way  to  the 
door,  and  would  now  proceed  to  take  vengeance  upon 
this  disturber  of  the  festivities. 

Seeing  this  the  Texan  raises  up  his  voice  and  cries, 
with  a  very  dangerous  look  upon  his  face  :  "  If  thar's 
any  American  round,  for  God's  sake  let  him  come  quick 

BEFORE  I  KILL  ALL  THESE  WAITERS  !  " 

Here  a  voice  answers  him  in  English  :  "  I'm  an  Amer 
ican  and  I'LL  SAVE  THE  WAITERS  !  "  And  Mr.  Potter  per 
ceives  a  young  gentleman  in  elaborate  evening  dress  forc 
ing  and  elbowing  his  way  through  the  crowd. 

His  appearance  causes  a  buzz  ;  the  ladies  gleam  on 
him  m  admiration  and  the  men  gaze  upon  him,  with  per 
haps  a  little  envy.  He  is  one  of  the  Paris  celebrities  of 

;  day.  He  calls  out  something  in  French  and  the 
waiters  all  murmur  :  "Ze  Prince  de  Baccarat!"  and  bow 
down  to  him  and  are  saved. 

"I'm  right  glad  you  come  !  "  says  Potter.  "  I  should 
have  turned  loose  on  'em  in  a  second,  and  then  they'd 
have  thought  the  siege  of  PanV  had  begun  again." 

"  Yes.  I  knew  I  had  to  speak  quick,"  says  this  young 
:leman,  who  has  traveled  over  Europe  and  America, 
and  understands  the  man  to  whom  he  is  talking.  "  I'll 
arrange  this  affair  for  you,"  and  he  explains  to  Mr. 
Potter  the  peculiar  custom  of  the  place  that  had  enraged 
him. 


MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  349 

Then  he  turns  to  the  proprietor  and  soon  settles  the 
matter  with  him  and  the  attendant  gendarmes^  and  Mr. 
Potter  finds  the  way  open  for  him  to  pursue  Sergeant 
Brackett  once  more. 

"  Can  I  do  anything  else  for  you  ?  You  don't  seem  to 
understand  the  language,  and  I  always  like  to  assist  my 
traveling  compatriots.  Permit  me  ! "  and  with  this  the 
young  man  gives  the  Texan  his  card. 

"  You're  almighty  kind,  Mr.  Deucey  !  "  returns  Potter, 
"and  if  you  could  take  me  to  my  son  I'd  bless  you  tot 
my  dying  day.     It's  a  matter  of  life  and  death,  and  al-' 
mighty  quick  life  and  death  too  !  " 

"  Who  is  your  son  ?  "  inquires  his  listener,  getting  seri 
ous,  for  Potter's  tones  indicate  he  means  what  he  says. 

"  Lieutenant  Potter  of  the  U.  S.  Navy." 

"  I  know  him,"  returns  young  Deucey,  and,  being  a 
man  of  action,  hurries  the  old  Texan  through  the  crowd, 
and  at  the  entrance  pops  him  into  his  own  private  car 
riage,  and  getting  in  beside  him,  tells  his  coachman  : 
"  Press  Club,  like  lightning  !  "  Then  he  takes  a  long 
look  at  Potter,  and  with  a  surreptitious  whistle  says  :  "  So 
you're  Miss  Potter's  father  ? " 

"  Yes  ;  and  I'm  mighty  glad  to  meet  you  !  I  was  most 
despairing,"  murmurs  the  Honorable  Sampson,  gazing  at 
his  guide  with  affection. 

And  glad  he  should  be,  for  Providence  has  been  kind  to 
Mr.  Potter  at  last.  He  has  fallen  in  the  hands  of  the  man 
probably  best  fitted  to  smooth  his  road  in  Paris  for  him, 
Le  Prince  de  Baccarat,  a  young  American  gentleman,  on 
whom  at  this  time  the  Goddess  of  Fortune  is  smiling  so 
kindly  that  she  has  made  him  almost  a  millionaire  by  his 
winnings  at  this  most  desperate  of  games.  A  man  who 
hazards  a  million  francs  on  the  turn  of  a  card  is  a  hero  on 
the  Parisian  Boulevarts  j  everybody  knows  him  and  he 
knows  a  good  many  of  the  everybody.  He  has  had 
dinner  at  the  Press  Club  the  evening  before  with  Lieu 
tenant  Potter,  and  is  aware  that  gentleman  has  his  rooms 
in  that  building.  He  speaks  French  like  a  native,  and 
under  his  guidance  the  carriage  flies  up  the  boulevarts^ 
and  passing  the  Opera  House,  they  alight  and  enter  the 
magnificent  Press  Club,  now  blazing  with  light  and  just 
beginning  to  assume  its  usual  all-night  gayety  and  brill 
iancy. 


-    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 


Chaperoned  by  Mr.  Deucey,  the  doors  fly  open  to  Mr, 
Potter,  who  might  have  knocked  on  them  forever  on 
his  own  account.  And  without  any  of  the  delays  and 
formalities  that  would,  under  ordinary  circumstances, 
have  taken  place,  they  go  up  the  grand  stair-case  and 
the  Texan  enters  the  baccarat  room.  Thus  vouched  for, 
the  waiters  bow  to  the  ground  before  him,  and  though 
his  wild  Western  costume  seems  in  curious  contrast  to 
the  brilliant  evening  dress  that  every  one  else  wears,  Mr. 
Potter  strides  through  the  room,  commented  upon  but  not 
hindered,and  yells  :  "  Houston,  my  boy  !  at  last  !  "! 

And  Lieutenant  Potter,  who  is  just  about  to  sit  down  at 
one  of  the  tables,  returning  :  "  Great  heavens  !  Is  that 
you,  dad  ?  "  they  immediately  seize  each  other's  hands 
and  nearly  wring  off  each  other's  arms. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE  PACKET  FROM  EGYPT. 

"  I'VE  got  life  and  death  business  with  you,  lad,"  whis 
pers  Potter. 

"  Then  come  this  way  ! "  says  his  son.  And  Mr. 
Deucey  suggesting  a  private  room,  the  two  Potters  go 
into  *t.  Here  the  old  man  says :  "  Lady  Annerley — 
what  did  you  telegraph  her  about  ? " 

"Why,"  returns  the  young  man,  "I  arrived  at  Paris 
yesterday,  and  having  a  packet  to  deliver  to  her " 

"  What  packet  was  that  ? " 

"  One  that  she  had  given  young  Errol  before  he  was 
wounded.  One  he  had  promised  to  return  to  her." 

"  Ah  !  "     This  is  a  snort  of  perception  from  Potter. 

"  I  called  at  her  hotel  here,  and  she  not  being  in  town 
obtained  her  address  at  Boulogne  and  telegraphed  her  I 
would  go  there  in  person  to-morrow  to  deliver  it.  She 
had  seemed  to  value  it  very  much,  and  had  sought  all 
over  Abdallah  the  Moor's  house  for  it  in  Egypt,"  he  con 
tinues. 

"  That  packet  contains  your  father's  salvation  from  the 
state's  prison  !  I've  got  that  she-devil  at  last ! "  cries 
Potter  in  triumph.  "  Give  it  to  me  !  " 


MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  85! 

"  I  can't !  "  returns  the  son  with  a  white  face  ;  for  either 
his  father  is  mad  or  means  what  he  says. 

«  Can't  ? "  shrieks  the  Texan.    "  Why  not  ? '; 

"  Because  five  minutes  ago  I  received  a  written  order 
from  Lady  Annerley,  and  delivered  it  to  her  agent." 

The  last  words  of  this  speech  are  not  heard  by  the 
elder  Potter.  He  has  sprung  out  of  the  room  to  follow 
the  detective  ;  but  a  moment  after  he  returns,  seeing  the 
hopelessness  of  immediate  pursuit.  Then  he  takes  his 
son  aside  and  mutters  :  "  He'll  be  going  back  on  the 
railway  to  Boulogne.  If  that  packet  gets  into  her  hands 
I'm  a  convict  !  Your  daddy,  your  innocent  daddy,  boy, 
is  a  convict,  and  you  and  your  sister  disgraced  !  " 

Here  young  Potter,  who,  when  he  met  his  father  a 
minute  or  two  before  this,  was  smiling,  utters  a  low  cry 
and  his  features  twitch  with  sudden  anguish,  for  he 
knows  his  father,  and,  persuaded  he  is  not  mad,  believes 

him. 

His  naval  promptitude  of  action  comes  to  him. 
springs  into  the  hall,  sends  a  waiter  for  a  cab,  and  asks 
young  Deucey,  who  has  waited  outside  to  see  if  he  can 
be  of  "any  assistance,  for  the  manner  of  the  two  men  shows 
the  affair  is  serious :  "  What  railways  go  to  Boulogne  ?  " 
"  The  Chemin  de  Per  du  Nord—\fl&  after  passing  Creil 
there  are  several  roundabout  roads  and  branches,  one  by 
way  of  Calais,  besides  the  direct  route." 
"  Are  there  any  others  ?  " 

"  None  but  those  so  circuitous  that  they  need  hardly 
be  considered." 

"  Can  you  tell  me  the  time  when  the  next  tram  leaves 
the  terminus  ? " 

"  No,  but  I'll  find  out."  And  after  consultation  with  the 
railway  guide  he  says  :  "  11.05,  and  you  can  catch  it  if 
you  drive  fast." 

"Much  obliged.  You'll  excuse  our  going?  '  returns 
young  Potter,  and  he  gets  his  father,  who  has  remained 
in  the  private  room,  but  now  comes  out  of  it  with  a  look 
upon  his  face  that  makes  Mr.  Deucey  shudder,  though  at 
baccarat  he  is  considered  to  have  very  strong  nerves. 

"  God  bless  you,  sir  ! "  mutters  Potter,  wringing  that 
young  gentleman's  hand.  "  You've  been  kind  to  me  when 
I  needed  a  friend,  and  I'll  come  back  to  Paris  and  see 
you  if  I  live  !  " 


25 2  MR.    POTTER    OF   TEXAS, 

"  Will  you  ?  "  returns  Le  Prince  de  Baccarat.  "  Then 
I'll  show  it  to  you." 

And  Potter  whispering  to  his  son  he'll  explain  matters 
as  they  go  along,  they  spring  into  the  cab  and  are  driven 
to  the  railway  station  as  fast  as  a  French  horse  can  carry 
them. 

In  the  cab  the  lieutenant  tells  his  father  what  he  knows 
about  the  packet  taken  from  the  body  of  the  dragoman, 
Osman  Ali,  by  the  sergeant  of  marines,  and  delivered  to 
him. 

The  old  man  gives  his  son  his  early  history  and  relates 
the  wondrous  tale  of  that  afternoon,  the  young  man  staring 
at  him  astounded.  Then  he  concludes  with  these  words  : 
I've  thought  the  whole  tangle  out.  You  say  she  went  to 
Egypt  immediately  after  her  scoundrel  father,  Sir  Jonas 
Stevens',  death  ?  Looking  into  God's  eye  the  dying  thief 
confessed  to  save  the  living  convict.  Lady  Annerley 
went  to  Alexandria  to  tell  Charley  Errol  the  truth.  THAT 
PACKET  is  THE  CONFESSION  !  But  after  he  fought  for 
her,  she  grew  to  love  him  and  feared  he  would  despise 
her  for  her  daddy's  awful  crime  against  his  father,  and 
wanted  it  back  again.  That  packet  is  my  only  chance 
before  an  English  jury,  and  whether  the  detective  lives 
or  dies— boy  !  do  you  mind  me  ?  lives  or  dies— that 
packet  must  never  reach  Saharah  Hannerley's  hands  ; 
otherwise  she'll  burn  it,  as  she  did  that  receipt,  and 
your  daddy's  a  goner." 

"  I  understand,"  mutters  the  lieutenant,  with  quite  a 
sad  face  ;  for  though  he  would  not  admit  it  now,  Lady  An- 
nerley's  magnificent  beauty  had  made  such  an  impression 
on  the  young  man  that,  hearing  Charley  Errol  was  going 
to  marry  an  English  girl,  he  had  got  leave  from  his  ship 
that  was  stationed  at  Nice  and  ran  up  to  Paris,  with  a  sneak 
ing  thought  in  his  mind  of  capturing  the  beautiful  widow 
himself  ;  hence  his  immediate  call  and  prompt  telegram. 
Then  Potter  suddenly  suggests  witn  a  shiver  :  "  Do 
you  think  he  can  have  mailed  that  packet  to  her  ? " 

*  No,"  returns  his  son  ;  "  for  she  knows  that  we  could 
make,  such  a  showing  by  to-morrow  morning  that  no  post-    ' 
office  in  France  would  deliver  it  to  her  without  examina 
tion.  She  wanted  to  make  absolutely  sure  of  it  and  destroy 
it  herself." 

Here  both  Potter  and  his  son  fail  to  give  Lady  Anner 


MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  353 

ley's  acuteness  due  credit.  They  do  not  guess  that  her 
foresight  had  suggested  that,  in  some  way  unknown  to 
her  at  the  time,  Potter  or  his  son  might  guess  the  impor 
tance  of  the  packet ;  and  she  had  instructed  Sergeant 
Brackett,  in  case  of  close  pursuit  and  in  danger  of  losing 
it,  he  is  to  destroy  the  document. 

By  this  time  the  Potters  are  at  the  railway  station. 
They  leave  the  cab,  and,  the  lieutenant  speaking  French, 
have  no  trouble  in  buying  tickets  for  Boulogne.  The 
depot  is  well  lighted,  and  after  getting  inside,  the  two 
have  time  to  make  a  complete  search  of  the  train  ;  look 
ing  carefully  into  every  carriage,  in  spite  of  the  annoy 
ance  and  protests  of  the  guard,  who,  however,  is  too  tired 
and  sleepy  to  give  them  any  great  amount  of  hindrance. 
There  are  but  few  passengers,  and  these  mostly  local, 
upon  this  late  train,  as  it  stops  at  all  the  stations  on  the 
road  and  is  a  very  slow  affair,  laying  over  at  Amiens  for 
several  hours. 

They  have  two  minutes  left  for  consultation  before  the 
train  leaves,  "  You  are  sure  he  is  not  on  the  cars  ? " 
says  the  lieutenant.  "  I  only  saw  the  man  for  a  minute 
and  might  miss  him." 

"  Perfectly  sure.  I  didn't  see  him  and  his  dog  d>dn't 
smell  him,"  returns  Potter,  fondling  little  Snapper,  who  is 
ensconced  comfortably  in  his  pocket.  "  Is  there  any 
other  train  for  the  cuss  to  get  to  Boulogne  on  ?" 

After  consulting  the  time-table  hurriedly,  the  lieuten 
ant  _  replies  :  "  No  !  this  train,  though  it  will  lie  over  in 
Amiens,  will  be  the  first  by  at  least  an  hour  to  put  a  man 
in  Boulogne.  None  of  the  expresses  leave  till  to-morrow 
morning." 

"Then  he's  on  board  of  this — somewhar.  He's  not 
going  to  let  me  head  him  off  at  Lady  Hannerley's  door," 
cries  Potter. 

"  Well,  if  he  is  not  on  the  train  now  he  has  had  no  op 
portunity  of  getting  on  it  since  we've  been  talking,"  re 
turns  the  young  officer  ;  for  the  two  have  held  this  con 
versation  near  the  entrance  and  kept  a  sharp  lockout 
upon  all  new-comers,  which  are  not  very  many  at  this 
time  of  night. 

"  He  must  be  on  the  train  somewhar,"  returns  Potter, 
doggedly,  "  and  I'm  going  on  it." 

"  Very  well,"  says  his  son  ;  "  I'll  go  with  you." 


MR-    POTTER   OF   TEXAa, 


"  Then,"  whispers  the  father,  "  sonny,  he  is  not  to  get 
to  that  woman  with  that  packet  alive.  Them's  my 
jrders  !  " 

"All  right.  Let  me  have  one  of  your  pistols  —  you 
always  carry  two." 

"You  ain't  harmed?"  gasps  Potter,  astonished. 
"  Haven't  I  always  told  you  to  carry  a  gun  ?  You  never 
know  when  it  may  come  handy." 

"  You  have  two,"  repeats  the  lieutenant. 

"  Yes,  but  I  may  need  'em  both.  You  see,  I  may  have 
;o  stand  off  the  local  police." 

"  For  God's  ^ake,"  mutters  his  son  impressively,  "  re 
member  that  though  you  may  kill  a  few  gendarmes  you 
can't  whip  the  whole  of  France,"  for  the  young  man 
knows  that  his  father  is  now  in  a  deadly  humor,  and  fears 
he  may  do  something  very  rash. 

"Yes,  I  know  that,"  says  Potter.  "But^I  believe  I 
could  give  a  very  good  account  of  myself.''  With  this 
modest  speech  he  hands  his  son  one  of  his  pistols,  And 
the  guard  crying  "  All  aboard  !  "  they  jump  into  a  first- 
class  compartment  and  the  train  rolls  out  of  the  Paris  sta 

tion.  . 

Being  a  Jocal,  it  stops  for  a  few  minutes  at  bamt 
Denis,  on  the  outskirts  of  the  city,  and  among  the  peo 
ple  boarding  the  train  is  a  sailor,  who  goes  quietly  into  a 
third-class  carriage. 

The  two  Americans  discuss  the  affair  under  their 
breath  as  the  train  slips  along  the  rails,  and  getting  all 
the  details  the  lieutenant  looks  even  more  serious  than 
before,  and  becomes  as  angry  and  excited  as  his  father. 
He  mutters  to  the  old  man  :  "  Don't  you  fear  if  I  put  my 
eyes  on  Mr.  Brackett.  He'll  no  more  escape  me  than  he 
would  you."  Then  giving  his  father's  hand  a  silent 
squeeze,  the  tears  come  into  the  young  man's  eyes  as  he 
looks  at  old  Potter's  now  almost  despairing  face. 

"  If  I  don't  get  square  on  this  matter,  don't  you  think 
she  deserves  killing  ?  "  asks  the  father,  as  if  for  advice. 

"Yes,"  replies  the  young  man  ;  "but  don't  you  do  it. 
Remember  Ida." 

"  My  God,  don't  talk  of  her!  "  mutters  th«  Texan,  the 
vater  getting  near  his  eyes. 

"  Have  you  telegraphed  her?'* 

«  No." 


MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS.  255 

"  Then  she  may  be  anxious.  Hearing  of  your  sudden 
departure  from  Boulogne,  she  may  fear  you  to  be " 

"  A  thief  ?  Not  she  !  Houston,  don't  slander  your 
sister  ;  that  gal's  the  truest  grit  of  any  of  us  !  "  says 
Potter  with  a  stern  voice,  interrupting  him. 

But  the  train  here  stopping  at  Chantilly,  Potter  con 
tinues  :  "  If  I  don't  get  something  soothing,  I  shall  break 
right  out  to  cursing.  There  are  ladies  in  the  carriage, 
Houston  ;  I'll  get  into  another  one  and  smoke  a  cigar. 
Come  along." 

"  No,  thank  you,  dad.  I  haven't  got  over  the  shock  of 
what  you  told  me  yet.  I'll  stay  here  and  think  it  over." 

"  Very  well,"  returns  Potter,  and  he  leaves  the  car 
riage  and  goes  to  a  third-class  compartment,  where  he 
lights  up,  and  the  smoke  rather  seems  to  soothe  matters 
for  him. 

The  lieutenant  turns  the  affair  over  and  over  in  his 
mind,  and  the  more  he  thinks  of  it  the  more  serious  and 
horrible  its  consequences  seem  to  him.  He  becomes  so 
engrossed  in  this  matter  that  the  train  stops  at  Creil  and 
then  goes  on  again  as  far  as  Clermont  before  he  thinks 
of  rejoining  his  father.  He  now  imagines  he  would  like 
a  cigar  also,  and  leaving  his  luxurious  first-class  com 
partment  goes  to  the  third-class  one  he  saw  old  Potter 
enter ;  but  he  does  not  find  him.  Then  he  looks  through 
all  the  third-class  carriages  and  finally  all  the  others  twice 
and  carefully,  but  without  success.  Sampson  Potter  of 
Texas  is  not  on  the  train. 

Hastily  questioning  the  guard,  that  official  is  not 
sure,  but  thinks  he  saw  a  sailor  at  Creil  leave  the  com 
partment  the  lieutenant  indicates  ;  and  that  after  him 
rather  hurriedly  came  a  man  answering  to  the  descrip 
tion  given  to  him  of  the  elder  Potter. 

The  lieutenant  hastily  questions  the  guard  as  to  the 
possibility  of  returning  to  Creil  ;  but  finds  there  is  no 
passenger  train  for  nearly  two  hours  ;  then,  thinking 
the  matter  over,  concludes  to  go  on  to  Boulogne  at  once, 
so  as  to  prevent  Sergeant  Brackett  delivering  the  packet 
to  Lady  Annerley  if  by  any  accident  he  escapes  his 
father. 

He  has  no  fear  for  the  old  man's  personal  safety  ;  in 
fact,  he  unconsciously  repeats  his  sister's  ideas  on  the 
subject,  for  he  once  or  twice  says  to  himself  with  a  sickly 


256  MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

kind  of  a  laugh  :  "  God  help  the  poor  detective !  H 
But  he  is  very  much  astonished  and  surprised  at  what 
has  occurred,  and  indulges  in  a  continuous  brown  study 
until  he  reaches  Amiens. 

Here  he  gets  a  much  greater  astonishment.  He  is 
compelled  to  lie  over  at  this  place  for  nearly  three  hours, 
and  being  too  excited  to  sleep  remains  about  the  buffet 
and  station.  Some  two  hours  after  his  arrival  a  tele 
graph  official,  noticing  his  foreign  appearance,  approaches 
him,  asking  if  his  name  is  Lieutenant  Potter  ;  and  on 
being  answered  affirmatively,  takes  him  to  the  telegraph 
office,  where  he  receives  a  message. 

This  he  opens  hurriedly,  glances  it  over,  stares  at  it, 
and  then  demands  that  they  repeat  the  dispatch  back  to 
Creil  and  see  if  it  is  correct. 

This  is  done,  and  being  answered  "  O.  K  !  "  Lieuten 
ant  Potter  reads  it  all  over  again,  and,  his  eyes  big  with 
surprised  astonishment,  mutters :  "  What  the  deuce  can 
this  mean  ?  "  For  the  telegram  received  by  him  reads  : 

"CREIL,  October  17,  1882,  2  A.  M. 
"  To  LIEUTENANT  POTTER,  U.  S.  NAVY,  ON  THE  ROAD  BETWEEN 

HERE   AND    BOULOGNE  : 

"  There's  the  devil  to  pay.  Meet  me  Boulogne  Depot,  at  9.25, 
morning  train.  Have  arrested  Samuel  Potts,  and  am  bringing  him 
along,  gagged,  and  guarded  by  two  gendarmes. 

"SERGEANT  BRACKETT, 

' '  British  Detective*' 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE    FLIGHT    OF    THE    DETECTIVE. 

WHEN  Sampson  Potter  leaves  his  son  at  Chantilly  and 
transfers  himself  from  a  first-class  compartment  to  a  third 
class  in  order  to  enjoy  his  cigar,  he  is  nearer  to  despair 
than  he  has 'ever  been  in  his  eventful  life.  The  whole 
awful  affair  has  come  upon  him  so  suddenly  and  unex 
pectedly  that  he  is  partially  in  a  dazed  condition.  As 
long  as  he  had  his  enemy,  the  detective,  in  sight,  he  was 
hopeful  and  alert ;  now,  his  opponent  having  disappeared, 
he  smokes  his  cigar  in  a  dreary,  despairing  sort  of  manner, 
and  thinks  it  a  cursed  bad  one,  though  it  isn't.  From 
this,  however,  he  is  awakened  by  Snapper.  The  train  has 


MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS.  257 

hardly  left  Chantilly  before  the  dog  makes  him  angry  by 
suddenly,  without  any  apparent  cause,  trying  to  tear  the 
lining  out  of  his  overcoat.  He  says  savagely :  "  Hi, 
Snapper!  Quiet!" 

But  Snapper  won't  quiet. 

He  now  makes  a  frantic  attempt  to  walk  off  bodily 
with  both  Potter  and  his  overcoat  along  the  seat  of  the 
carriage  in  the  direction  of  the  other  side  of  the  com 
partment.  To  move  at  all  he  has  to  do  this,  for,  there 
being  a  large  overhanging  lapel  to  the  Texan's  great 
warm  pocket,  Snapper  has  been  buttoned  in,  partly  for 
his  security  and  partly  for  his  comfort,  as  the  night  has 
been  growing  chilly  and  is  now  cold.  These  silent  but 
desperate  efforts  are  repeated  so  often  that  Potter  looks 
round  to  discover  the  cause,  and  thinks  :  "  We  must  have 
rats  aboard  !  " 

But  discovering  no  rodents,  he  gives  a  sudden  stare  ; 
for  Snapper  is  trying  to  bite  his  way  out  of  the  pocket  in 
a  frantic  and  determined  manner,  and  all  the  time  strain 
ing  his  little  strength  to  crawl  toward  the  other  side  of 
the  compartment  ;  and  an  idea  suddenly  has  flashed 
through  Potter's  brain  :  "  If  it  ain't  rats,  it's  his  master  !  " 

The  Texan  is  now  awake  and  peering  with  his  ferret 
eyes  into  the  gloom  of  the  compartment,  which  is  par 
tially"  illuminated  by  an  oil  lamp. 

The  seat  Mr.  Potter  is  on  is  the  one  next  to  the  loco 
motive  ;  and,  as  is  common  in  all  third-class  carriages, 
runs  entirely  across  the  compartment.  There  is  only  an 
other  bench  to  examine  and  that  is  the  one  opposite  him. 
Upon  it  sit  a  French  peasant  woman  of  about  fifty  and 
three  men;  two  of  them  small  shopkeepers  and  apparently 
friends,  as  they  are  talking  together  ;  the  other,  a  sailor 
by  his  dress,  who  is  trying  to  decipher  a  French  news 
paper  that  he  holds  quite  close  to  his  face.  After  look 
ing  them  all  over,  Potter  gives  a  disappointed  sigh  and 
relapses  into  gloomy  meditation.  Sergeant  Brackett  is 
not  in  the  carriage. 

But  he  has  hardly  time  to  settle  himself  back  in  his 
seat,  when  Snapper  makes  a  more  vigorous  attempt,  if 
possible,  than  ever  to  escape  from  the  overcoat  and  get 
toward  the  other  side  of  the  car.  "  Curse  it !  I  wonder  if 
he'll  be  quiet  if  I  take  the  little  cuss  where  he  wants  to 
go,"  thinks  Potter,  and  transfers  himself  to  the  other 


358  MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 

end  of  his  bench,  where  he  says  :  "  Now  1  reckon  you'll 
give  us  a  rest,  Snapper.  If  you  don't  I'll  cuff  you  .'"  for 
the  dog's  uneasiness  annoys  the  Texan  in  his  present  irri 
table  state. 

But  the  demon  of  unrest  seems  to  have  entered  the 
little  beast's  body  ;  he  now  makes  a  charge  to  cross  the 
car.  This  would  put  him  right  in  the  lap  of  the  sailor. 
Potter  instinctively  looks  over,  and  his  gaze  becomes  pet 
rified.  He  can't  see  the  whole  of  the  tar's  face  for  the 
newspaper,  but  upon  the  weather-beaten  forehead,  though 
the  night  is  cold  and  chilly,  he  observes  a  great  drop  of 
perspiration  slowly  gather.  Then  Snapper  gives  a  fran 
tic  whine  and  the  perspiration  falls  with  a  little  splash 
upon  the  newspaper  the  sailor  reads. 

And  as  the  perspiration  drops,  so  does  Potter,  as  he 
sinks  back  in  his  chair  in  amazed  astonishment  and  mut 
ters  :  "  Wall,  I'm  darned  !  " 

Potter's  sensations  overcome  him  ;  Brackett's  are  even 
more  horrible.  For  the  sailor  is  the  redoubtable  ser 
geant,  who  has  decided  to  use  the  consummate  arts  he  has 
read  of  in  great  French  detective  stories  to  baffle  his 
pursuer. 

This  idea  came  into  his  head  while  flying  from  the 
caft  chantant,  and  as  soon  as  he  obtained  the  packet  from 
Lieutenant  Potter  he  drove  to  a  theatrical  costumer  and 
there  donned  the  disguise  of  a  sailor,  the  woman  in 
charge  kindly  making  his  face  up  for  the  character,  sup 
posing  him  going  to  some  fancy  ball.  Retaining  only 
his  overcoat,  and  leaving  orders  for  his  other  every-day 
garments  to  be  forwarded  to  his  address  at  Boulogne, 
the  sergeant  had  found  that  he  had  sufficient  time,  and 
had  driven  out  to  Saint  Denis  to  board  the  train  there, 
considering  that  course  safer  than  going  to  the  main  sta 
tion  of  the  railway  in  Paris. 

Seated  in  his  third-class  compartment,  with  his  packet 
secure  in  his  inner  pocket,  he  had  felt  safe  in  person 
and  in  purse,  for  he  had  considered  Lady  Annerley's  five 
hundred  pounds  as  good  as  earned  until  he  saw  the  re 
morseless  Potter  enter  the  carriage  to  enjoy  his  cigar. 

After  that,  for  a  few  blessed  moments  he  has  been 
comparatively  sure  he  would  not  be  recognized  ;  but 
from  the  instant  Snapper  has  begun  his  extraordinary 
performances,  he  has  regarded  himself  as  lost,  knowing 


MR.   POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  359 

and  even  cursing  the  devoted  love  of  his  pet  that  is 
betraying  him.  His  nervous  agony  has  become  so  acute 
that  when  Snapper  actually  brings  Potter  opposite  to 
him,  the  tell-tale  perspiration  will  show,  to  his  un 
doing. 

"  Good  Lord  !  "  thinks  Brackett,  as  the  Texan  utters 
his  suppressed  exclamation  ;  "  I'm  gone  now  !  " 

And  so  he  would  be  if  Potter  were  really  sure.  Then 
the  detective  would  never  pass  out  of  that  car  alive  with 
that  packet  in  his  possession. 

But  the  arts  of  civilization  are  not  those  of  barbarism, 
and  the  old  frontiersman  does  not  know  that  many  cos- 
tumers  in  Paris  keep  open  to  a  late  hour  for  the  conven 
ience  of  masked  balls.  He  might  even  suspect  the  dress, 
but  the  sailor's  face  seems  genuine,  Mr.  Potter  not 
knowing  the  wonderful  art  of  facial  make-up,  and  the  ex 
traordinary  power  of  grease-paint  properly  applied.  And 
he  mutters  to  himself  :  "  If  I  was  real  certain  "—reason 
ing  that  he  cannot  shoot  a  man  just  because  a  dog  wants 
to  smell  him,  and  determines  to  test  the  identity  of  the 
sailor  by  every  means  in  his  power. 

First  he  tries  conversation,  addressing  him  in  Eng- 
ash  ;  but  the  man  only  smiles  at  him  a  blank  smile. 
Then^  he  releases  Snapper  from  his  pocket,  and  when 
that  little  beast,  with  a  cry  of  joy,  jumps  into  the  sailor's 
lap,  with  tail  and  ears  and  body  all  wriggling  ecstasy,  the 
sailor  pets  the  pretty  creature,  fondles  it,  lets  it  remain 
in  his  lap,  chirps  to  it,  and  smiles  blandly  upon  it,  which 
amazes  Potter,  who  had  expected  him,  if  Brackett,  to 
repulse  it.  For  the  detective  has  just  now  done,  as  men 
with  small  brains  sometimes  do,  a  very  smart  thing. 

Inspired  by  success,  for  he  sees  that  now  Potter  begins 
to  be  in  doubt  as  to  his  identity,  the  sergeant  proceeds  to 
a  master-stroke.  With  a  forced  smile,  which  his  painted 
wrinkles  make  ^hideous,  he  suddenly  places  Snapper  in 
the  pocket  of  his  overcoat  that  he  knows  the  dog  doesn't 
like,  the  one  with  the  cold  handcuffs  in  it.  From  their 
chill  and  hard  encounter  Mr.  Snapper  recoils,  whines, 
jumps  out  of  the  pocket,  and,  looking  reproachfully  at 
his  master,  goes  back  to  Potter,  whose  pockets  he  knows 
are  warm  and  comfortable,  and  have  no  chilling  iron  or 
steel  inside  them. 

This  seems  to  settle  the  matter,  and  the  Texan,  mutter* 


t6o  MR.   POTTER    OF    TEXAS. 

ing  to  himself  :  "  Great  snakes  !  fooled  hagain  !  "  relapse? 
into  his  seat  as  the  train  runs  into  Creil,  the  time  from 
Chantilly  to  this  place  being  only  about  fifteen  min 
utes. 

Creil  is  a  great  railway  junction,  no  less  than  five 
lines  coming  into  the  station,  and  here  Brackett  deter 
mines  to  leave  the  train  and  try  to  take  some  round 
about  route  to  Boulogne,  anything  being  preferable  to 
Potter's  close  proximity. 

This  he  does  with  considerable  coolness  ;  for  he  waits 
till  the  train  has  but  a  minute  or  two  longer  to  remain 
before  he  gets  up  and  steps  out  of  the  compartment. 

Now  the  very  act  of  the  sailor's  going  arouses  Potter 's 
suspicions  again  ;  besides  Snapper,  missing  his  master's 
presence,  is  apparently  anxious  to  be  after  him.  All 
this,  coupled  with  the  fact  that  the  Texan  has  noticed 
that  the  man's  ticket  is  for  Boulogne,  sets  the  frontiers 
man  to  thinking.  He  gets  out  of  the  carriage  also  and 
stands  waiting  ;  if  the  sailor  returns  to  the  train  he  has 
probably  mistaken  his  man  ;  if  not,  he  will  follow  him. 

Thirty  seconds  after  this  the  train  steams  off  into  the 
darkness,  and  Potter  now  hurries  into  the  railway  refresh 
ment  salon  where  he  saw  the  sailor  disappear. 

But  half  a  minute  is  a  long  start,  and  the  Texan  can 
not  discover  the  sailor  in  tke  buffet.  He  rushes  out  of  the 
exit  from  the  station  to  the  town  ;  no  sailor.  But  here 
he  begins  suddenly  to  run,  for  Snapper,  who  has  somehow 
got  out  of  his  pocket,  sees  a  carriage,  and  is  flying  up 
one  of  the  deserted  streets  of  this  little  French  town  in 
pursuit  of  it. 

He  runs  silently  after  the  dog,  taking  care  not  to  over 
take  him,  and  finding  no  difficulty  in  keeping  up  to  him  ; 
for  this  old  man  of  the  prairies  is  as  wiry  as  many  a  col 
lege  athlete.  He  is  soon  rewarded. 

Snapper,  bounding  along  two  or  three  minutes^  over 
takes  a  cab  that  is  driving  ahead  of  them,  and  jumps 
up  and  barks.  Then  a  head  is  put  cautiously  out  of 
the  window  and  apparently  does  not  see  the  Texan,  for 
a  voice  that  makes  Potter's  heart  bound  with  joy  says^: 
"  Hi,  old  doggy !  we've  both  run  away  from  the  beggar  ! 
The  cab  door  is  opened,  and  Snapper  springs  into  the 
arms  of  his  beloved  master. 

On  this  the  Texan,  increasing  his  speed,  also  overtakes 


MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS.  2$1 

the  hack  and  swings  himself  up  alongside  of  the  driver, 
to  that  individual's  anger  and  fright ;  for  he  begins  to 
cry  out  French  oaths  and  to  attempt  to  knock  the  Texan 
from  the  box. 

"  Shut  up  !  "  mutters  Potter  with  sententious  sternness, 
"  or  you're  cold  clay  !  " 

But  the  man  only  screams  the  louder. 

"  You  don't  sab/  me,  Frenchy  !  "  returns  the  Texan  in 
terrible  earnest.  "  Perhaps  you  sab/  this  / "  And  he 
claps  his  pistol  to  the  forehead  of  the  fighting  Jehu. 

The  effect  of  the  revolver  is  instantaneous  and  tremen 
dous.  The  hackman  gives  a  shriek  that  would  raise  the 
Seven  Sleepers,  and  springs  over  backward,  falling  off  the 
carriage  box,  while,  approaching  noises  warning  Mr. 
Potter  of  pursuit,  he  whips  up  the  horses,  and  goes  at  a 
terrible  gait  for  a  minute  or  so.  Then  he  suddenly  pulls  in 
the  animals  panting  on  their  haunches,  springs  off  the 
box,  opens  the  cab  door,  and  jabbing  his  revolver  against 
Sergeant  Brackett's  heart  says  :  "  That  packet  you  got 
from  my  son — or  you're  dead  !  " 

All  this  has  curdled  the  blood  of  the  detective.  He  has 
heard  the  struggle  on  the  box  and  what  he  supposes  is 
the  hackman's  death-cry,  and  would  have  sprung  out  of 
the  carriage  himself,  but  the  fearful  speed  has  deterred 
him  ;  therefore  he  has  used  the  time  in  another  way. 

He  now  mutters  faintly  :  "  You  can  kill  me,  but  I  haven't 
got  it." 

"  Not  got  it  ? "  screams  the  Texan.  "  Great  Scott !  my 
darter  !  "  and  for  a  moment  feels  sick  ;  for  at  every  mis 
hap  in  this  whole  affair  Mr.  Potter  thinks  of  his  daughter, 
and  it  causes  a  weakness  that  no  disaster  to  himself  could 
bring  him. 

Just  here  Sergeant  Brackett  astounds  Mr.  Potter  ;  for 
he  mistakes  tenderness  for  nervousness,  and  says  in  a 
stronger  voice  :  "  Samuel  Potts,  I  arrest  you  in  the 
Queen's  name  !  I've  a  warrant  for  you  and  requisition 
on  the  French  Government.  You'd  better  not  resist,  I 
hear  gendarmes  coming  !  " 

"  'Ave  you  ? "  mutters  the  Texan,  grimly.  "  Show  me 
the  documents ! " 

"  Here  they  are  !  "  And  Brackett  hands  Potter  two 
official  papers,  which  the  Honorable  Sampson  hastily  ex 
amines  by  the  light  of  the  carriage  lamp,  while  the  SCP 


262  MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS. 

geant  proudly  produces  a  pair  of  bright  handcuffs,  and 
arranges  them  for  Potter's  wrists. 

"  Yes,  these  are  O.  K.  ! "  returns  the  Texan,  pocketing 
the  documents. 

"  Then,  Samuel  Potts,  you're  wanted  !  Hold  up  your 
hands  ! " 

"Hold  up  yours/" 

"  My  Lord!  " 

"  Hold  up  your  hands  !  Now  handcuff  yourself,  or 
I'll  riddle  ye  !  Quick  !  " 

"My  God  J" 

"  No  back  talk  !  You'll  be  dead  before  you  hear  the 
click  of  the  lock  !  This  gun's  a  self-cocker  !  That's 
comfortable  !  "  concludes  Mr.  Potter,  as  Sergeant  Brack - 
ett,  with  a  smothered  moan,  sinks  back  in  the  hack  hand 
cuffed  by  himself  with  his  own  handcuffs,  the  most 
thoroughly  astonished  and  dismayed  detective  that  ever 
shadowed  a  criminal. 

"  Now  the  key  to  these  bracelets  !  "  demands  Potter. 

"  I— I've  dropped  it.     I  haven't  got  it." 

"  The  key,  or  you  won't  have  time  to  say  your 
prayers ! " 

"  It's — it's  in  my  trousers  pocket." 

"  All  right,  I've  got  it !  ''  mutters  Potter,  giving  the 
handcuffs  an  extra  snap  to  make  sure  they  are  well  on 
Brackett's  wrists.  "  And  now  that  packet  you  got  from 
my  son  ! " 

But  before  either  of  them  can  say  more  the  hack  is  sur 
rounded  by  gendarmes,  headed  by  the  driver  of  the  cab 
that  Potter  had  so  summarily  dismissed  from  his  box. 

Mr.  Potter,  remembering  his  son's  advice,  doesn't  try  to 
whip  France  ;  but  having  made  up  his  mind  how  to 
act,  stands  unmoved  till  the  sergeant  of  the  gendarmes 
comes  up  to  him.  Then  he  silently  hands  that  officer 
the  two  warrants  ;  and  while  the  French  policeman  ex 
amines  them  by  the  light  of  the  coach  lamp,  points  to 
the  name  of  Sergeant  Brackett  in  the  French  extradition 
document,  and  pats  his  own  breast. 

«  A — ah  !  Monsieur  le  Sergeant  Gendarme  Brackett ! ' 
says  the  Frenchman,  giving  him  a  polite  bow  ;  for  he 
reads  and  understands  the  requisition  on  his  government, 
which  is  in  his  language,  and  guesses  what  the  warrant 
for  Samuel  Potts,  which  is  in  English,  must  mean. 


MR,    POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  263 

"OuiJ"  returns  Potter,  effusively,  and  then  points 
with  his  finger  to  the  name  of  the  criminal  in  the  French 
document,  indicating  the  handcuffed  Brackett  as  the 
man. 

"  A-ah  !  Le  voleur  !  Samuel  Pot-tes  !  "  says  the  French 
police  officer,  and  his  men  drag  from  the  carriage  the 
detective,  who  is  trying,  in  very  bad  French,  to  explain 
to  them  his  identity. 

"  He  is  handcuffed  ! — DISGUISED  !  "  says  the  sergeant 
of  gendarmes,  in  French,  after  a  moment's  examination 
of  the  paint  on  Brackett's  face,  that  now  is  being  made 
into  streaks  by  the  perspiration  of  surprise,  agitation,  and 
misery. 

And  now,  somewhat  to  Potter's  relief,  the  hackman, 
who  has  been  looking  at  him  searchingly,  suddenly 
turns  round  and  recognizes  Brackett  as  the  man  who 
threatened  to  shoot  him  in  the  dark  with  his  pistol,  and 
goes  into  a  frenzy  at  the  unfortunate  detective,  calling 
him  "  Assassin  !  Meur trier  !  Le  vieux  larron  I  "  and 
other  French  expletives  indicative  of  Brackett's  supposed 
crimes. 

So  they  all  come  along  to  the  police  station  carrying 
with  them  their  prisoner,  whom  they  have  shoved  into 
the  hack  again,  and  who  occupies  his  time  by  shaking 
his  handcuffs  at  Potter  and  screaming  an  unintelligible 
mixture  of  French  and  English  out  of  the  window.  The 
cab-driver's  story  has  made  them  all  think  the  detective 
dangerous,  and  they  pay  no  attention  to  his  ravings. 

At  the  police  station,  despite  his  struggles  and  im 
precations,  they  run  Sergeant  Brackett  into  a  dark  cell, 
lock  him  in,  and  leave  him. 

Then  Potter  proceeds  to  grease  the  wheels  of  justice, 
giving  the  hackman  a  twenty-franc  piece,  and  indicating 
by  signs  that  he  is  to  remain  with  his  carnage  outside. 
Next  he  sends  out  for  lots  of  wine  to  a  neighboring  cafe, 
and  immediately  becomes  popular  with  the  French  police. 
A  man  who  speaks  a  little  English  is  found  to  act  as  in 
terpreter,  and  Potter,  rewarding  him  for  his  trouble  in  ad 
vance,  his  story,  as  the  man  relates  it  to  the  sergeant  of 
gendarmes,  is  perfectly  satisfactory.  Then  he  leads  that 
officer  away,  and  silently  holds  out  a  hundred-franc 
note. 
"Ah,  monsieur,  ri  import*  !"  says  the  sergeant  of 


(54  MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS. 

gendarmes,,  with  a  shrug  of  his  shoulders,  but  takes  the 
money. 

And  now  Potter  says  through  the  interpreter  that  he's 
going  in  to  search  his  prisoner  ;  for  all  this  time,  though 
compelled  to  postpone  action,  he  has  had  but  one  thought 
on  his  mind — the  packet. 

The  cell  door  is  unlocked,  and  without  much  ceremonj 
or  gentleness  he  examines  Brackett  from  head  to  heel. 
and  to  his  horror  finds  nothing.  Then  he  falls  to  beg 
ging  the  detective  to  tell  him  for  his  daughter's  sake 
what  he  has  done  with  the  packet.  And  getting  no  an 
swer,  for  his  manner  is  almost  that  of  a  crazy  man,  and 
now  Brackett  dare  not  tell  him,  he  wastes  no  more  time 
in  threats,  and  goes  hurriedly  out  to  examine  the  hack, 
having  an  idea  that  perhaps  the  detective  may  have  con 
cealed  the  packet  there.  Making  this  examination  by  the 
aid  of  a  carriage  lamp,  he  finds  some  scraps  of  paper  that 
frighten  him.  He  hurriedly  takes  them  into  the  police 
office  and  inspects  them.  They  are  in  a  feminine  hand, 
and  he  turns  pale  and  white,  and  drops  of  agony  come 
out  upon  this  strong  man's  brow,  as  he  mutters  faintly  ; 
"  My  God  !  My  darter  !  "  For  he  knows  the  last  proof 
of  his  innocence  in  the  world  is  destroyed  ;  but  still  thinks 
only  of  what  it  will  bring  to  her. 

Then  he  suddenly  springs  up  and  through  the  interpre 
ter  offers  great  rewards  for  pieces  of  this  document  the 
criminal  has  destroyed  ;  and  they  all  take  lanterns  and 
go  out  upon  the  road  over  which  the  hack  has  passed, 
Potter  showing  them  where  search  should  be  made. 

After  a  little  time  the  French  gendarmes,  the  interpre 
ter,  and  also  the  hackman,  who  all  take  a  hand  in  this 
business,  begin  tc  bring  him  scraps  of  paper  similar 
to  those  he  has  found  in  the  carriage  ;  he  paying  for 
them  according  to  size,  five,  ten,  fifteen,  and  even  twenty 
francs. 

These  stimulating  rewards  make  the  men  very  eager, 
and  they  find  a  good  many  pieces,  some  of  them  quite 
large,  for  Brackett  has  done  his  work  in  a  hurry  and 
there  has  been  but  little  wind  this  night. 

So  they  work  on  for  hours,  going  over  the  same  ground 
Aiany  times,  till  at  last  a  gendarme  brings  him  a  large 
piece  of  paper,  and  Potter  looking  at  it  gives  a  yell  of  joy, 
and  hands  the  man  a  five-pound  note.  For  it  is  the  en* 


MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS.  265 

tire  wrapper  of  the  packet,  addressed  in  Lady  Annerley's 
own  handwriting,  and  has  been  only  unfastened,  having  the 
ribbon  with  which  it  was  secured  attached  to  the  paper ; 
and  a  cunning  idea  has  sprung  into  the  old  Texan's 
mind. 

After  a  little  more  searching,  they  make  up  their  minds 
they  can  find  no  more,  and  return  to  the  police  station, 
all  the  rest  very  happy,  but  Potter  in  an  awful  mood. 
He  instantly  arranges  by  the  interpreter  to  transfer  his 
prisoner  to  Boulogne  by  the  express  train  that  passes 
through  Creil  early  in  the  morning,  arriving  at  its  des 
tination  between  nine  and  ten  o'clock. 

Then  he  goes  in  with  a  white  face  to  Brackett  and 
whispers  to  him  :  "  You  don't  know  what  you've  done, 
but  /  do  !  You  pray  God  all  night  that  this  matter  turns 
out  right,  for  if  it  don't  I'll  kill  you  ;  and  I  never  told  a 
man  that  yet  without  he  was  dead  when  I  said  the  last 
word.  I'll  do  it  any  way  if  you  open  your  lips  to  a  living 
human — till  I've  settled  her!" 

With  this  he  gags  Brackett  to  make  sure  of  his  silence, 
and  goes  out  and  puts  on  his  revolver  again  ;  for  on 
visiting  the  detective  Potter  had  left  his  pistol  outside, 
for  fear  that  he  would  kill  his  enemy,  which  would  have 
destroyed  the  plan  he  had  in  his  mind.  Then  he  tele 
graphs  the  lieutenant. 

So,  aided  by  the  sergeant  of  gendarmes,  Mr.  Potter  fol 
lows  out  the  dispatch  he  had  sent  to  his  son,  and  arriving 
at  Boulogne,  meets  the  young  man  at  the  depot.  Where, 
having  got  Mr.  Brackett  into  a  cab,  they  drive  him  to  a 
room  the  lieutenant  has  engaged  in  a  little  out-of-the-way 
hotel  on  the  quay,  and  Potter  and  his  son  have  a  long 
conversation. 

Which  the  father  ends  by  saying:  "It's  a  desperate 
dodge,  but  I  think  it'll  break  the  slate  !  " 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE    APOTHEOSIS    OF    SAMMY    POTTS. 

WHILE  Mr.  Potter  is  arranging  to  "  break  the  slate," 
his  friends  are  having  an  exciting  time  in  Boulogne, 
where  Lady  Annerley,  though  suffering  the  tortures  of 


266  MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS. 

Hades,  is  also  distributing  misery  and  despair  to  such  of 
the  Texan's  adherents  as  come  in  her  way. 

She  has  had  an  awful  night  of  it,  however,  and  though 
in  no  fear  of  bodily  harm,  has  probably  suffered  more 
than  her  emissary,  Sergeant  Brackett,  at  the  hands  of  the 
French  gendarmes  and  the  ferocious  Texan. 

Her  conscience  has  been  crying  out  at  her  with  every 
beat  of  the  pendulum  :  "  You  have  kept  one  innocent 
man  in  exile,  and  perhaps  condemned  another  to  prison 
to  the  dishonor  of  their  families  and  the  ruin  of  all  who 
belong  to  them  ! — and  for  what  ?  To  retain  the  respect 
and  perhaps"  (for  she  still  has  wild  dreams)  "  gain  the  love 
of  a  man  whom  you  are  now  torturing  and  degrading  by 
means  of  his  father's  shame,  ignominy,  and  despair  !  " 

She  has  but  to  open  her  mouth  and  they  will  all  be 
happy — save  herself.  But  at  this  the  vision  of  Errol  and 
Ethel  at  the  altar  comes  to  her  and  she  cries  out  wildly  : 
"  No,  no  !  Fate  joined  us  in  Egypt  !  I'll  not  lose  his 
respect — the  chance  of  his  love  !  Though  it  is  torture  to 
remain  silent,  it  would  be  more  to  confess.  I  have  burned 
my  bridges  ;  I  am  silent  now  forever  !  " 

So  the  morning  opens  for  her,  and  at  about  ten  o'clock, 
she  having  just  made  an  affectation  of  eating  breakfast, 
the  obsequious  Lubbins  brings  to  her  Mr.  Charles  Errol's 
card,  and  she  says  :  "  At  home  to  him  !  Here,  in  my 
private  parlor." 

The  young  man  has  heard  the  rumors  of  the  night  be 
fore  from  Arthur  of  the  flight  of  Potter  the  Texan,  upon 
the  discovery  that  he  was  the  missing  Sammy  Potts,  and 
of  his  pursuit  by  the  London  detective,  Sergeant  Brack 
ett.  He  has  not  seen  Lord  Lincoln,  who  has  arrived 
upon  the  morning  boat,  and  is  now  holding  consulta 
tion  with  his  son  and  daughter  at  the  Hotel  du  Pavillo,i. 
This  information  has  been  conveyed  to  him  in  a  little 
note  from  Ethel  in  which  she  writes  :  "  You  have  prom 
ised  not  to  speak  to  me  ;  but  I  have  promised  to  love  you 
to  the  end  of  my  life,  and  I'll  keep  it.  Ida  is  the  only 
calm  one  in  our  party.  She  seems  to  fear  nothing  for 
her  father,  but  a  great  deal  for  the  detective  who  is  try 
ing  to  arrest  him.  Her  confidence  in  her  father's  honor 
has  produced  the  greatest  admiration  in  my  father.  Give 
your  poor  father  my  love,  and  say  I  wish  to  call  him  father 
also— soon  I " 


MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  267 

A  note  filled  with  such  passages  as  this  would  give 
hope  to  any  lover ;  and  Charley  Errol  would  be  more 
calm  this  morning  were  it  not  for  his  father. 

The  elder  Errol  has  endured  banishment  for  thirty 
years  with  equanimity  and  dignity  at  a  distance  from 
the  land  of  his  birth.  Having  placed  once  more  his  foot 
upon  his  mother  country,  he  longs  for  it  as  for  his  life, 
and  spends  hours  on  the  beach  gazing  at  the  dim  white 
cliffs,  and  muttering  in  a  broken  voice  to  his  son : 
"  Charley,  take  my  bones  to  my  old  home  ;  they'll  let 
them  rest  there — soon  !  The  disgrace  and  shame  of 
thirty  years  ago  have  come  all  back  to  me.  I  can't  look 
men  in  the  face.  I  feel  like  I  did  when  they  first  put 
the  convict's  garb  upon  my  body  and  the  felon's  chains 
upon  my  limbs  !  " 

This  kind  of  thing  has  made  young  Errol  desperate, 
and  he  has  come  to  Lady  Annerley  to  try  and  force  the 
truth  from  her ;  for  he  has  been  thinking  through  the 
night ;  and  suffering  stimulating  his  faculties,  begins  to 
remember  something  of  what  she  had  said  to  him  when 
she  first  met  him  in  Egypt. 

As  he  comes  in,  unheeding  the  pleading  glance  of  the 
woman  whose  beauty  is  now  made  pathetic  by  despairing 
love,  the  look  upon  his  face  is  stern.  He  coldly  says  : 
"You  hardly  expected  me  again,  I  presume,  Lady  An 
nerley  ? " 

To  this  she  begs  :  "  Please  don't  use  that  tone  to  me. 
I  don't  deserve  it— from  you  !    Charley,  you  came— — " 
"  To  wring  the  acknowledgment  of  my  father's  inno 
cence  from  you  ! " 

"From  me?  I — I  have  never  said  I  thought  your 
father  guilty  ! " 

"  No  ?  Then  prove  him  innocent !  I  ve  been  looking 
at  his  face,  that  can't  bear  my  glance  because  the  world 
calls  him  a  felon.  You  can  remove  that  shame — and, 
Lady  Annerley,  you  shall  do  it ! " 

But  she  confounds  him  by  saying :  "  And  what  do  I 
know  ?  Only  that  your  father  is  a  convict ;  and  if  I  used 
that  knowledge  to  separate  you  from  Ethel  Lincoln — you 
know  the  reason  "—then  cries  to  him  :  "  Charley,  why 
are  you  so  cruel  to  me  ?  You— you  would  be  different 
to  me — if  you  knew  how  you  fought  for  me — if  you  re* 
membered  Egvet  1 " 


268  MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 

Then  he  cries  back  at  her  :  "  I  do  remember  Egypt !  " 
Her  voice  and  bearing  have  set  his  memory  going  and 
the  past  has  come  to  him  again,  for  he  says  hoarsely  : 
"  What  did  that  packet  contain  you  told  me  to  treasure 
as  my  life — the  one  you  gave  me  to  send  my  father  ? 
The  truth  was  in  that  packet !  Tell  it  to  me  !  That 
truth  I  will  have!'' 

This  astounds  and  terrifies  her— he  is  beginning  to  re 
member — but  it  also  makes  her  cooler.  She  draws  her 
self  up  and  says  to  him  cuttingly  :  «  Ah,  yes,  Lord  Lin- 
coin  has  been  telegraphed  for ;  he  is  here  to  part  his 
daughter  from  the  convict's  son.  That  is  why  I  must 
make  your  father  innocent !  " 

At  this  he  looks  at  her  astonished,  for  it  is  the  only 
cruel  speech  she  has  ever  made  him  in  all  the  suffering 
her  passion  for  him  has  brought  to  her.  He  mutters  : 
"  Lady  Sarah,  you're  a  different  woman  to  the  one  who 
nursed  me  to  life  in  Italy  three  months  ago  !  " 

"  That  was  before  her  baby  face  came  between  us  ! " 
cries  her  ladyship  hoarsely. 

The  agony  in  her  tone  makes  him  contrite,  for  he  re 
members  Lady  Annerley's  kind  nursing,  and  fears  he 
may  have  given  her  cause  to  think  she  at  one  time  had 
his  heart.  He  says  half  apologetically  :  "  You— you 
never  thought  I  loved  you  ? " 

This  remark  adds  to  the  agony  of  love  the  agony  of 
shame.  She  sneers  :  "  Ah,  what  a  generous  question  !  " 
Then  droops  her  head  and  answers  it  sadly :  "  No  !  She 
could  awaken  a  passion  I  could  not  touch,"  next  says 
hoarsely  :  "  That's  why  I  hate  her  !  " 

"  I  had  supposed  your  pride—"  murmurs  Errol ;  but 
gets  no  farther,  for  she  cuts  him  short  by  wringing  her 
hands  and  crying  out :  "  Pride  is  for  those  who  think,  not 
chose  who  feel !  Pride  was  for  yesterday  ;  to-day  I've 
only  passion  and  despair  !  Charley,  forgive  me  for  the 
sorrow  I've  brought  again  upon  your  father ! "  and  Lady 
Annerley  is  at  his  feet  sobbing.  "  Oh,  if  you  knew  how  I 
suffer,  too — seeing  you  turn  from  me  who  had  given  you 
back  your  life  !  "  For  the  anguish  in  her  face  has  made 
him  look  away  from  her.  "  You  said  that  before  she 
came—in  Venice  !•"  She  rises  and  gets  near  him  again 
with  these  words,  and  seeing  no  response  in  his  eyes 
goes  into  a  spasm  of  horrible  despair,  crying  out :  "  My 


MR.    POTTER  OF    TEXAS.  269 

God  !  How  cruel  you  are  to  me  !  Some  day  you'll  know 
the  difference  between  a  young  girl's  rose-leaf  passion 
and  the  love  of  a  woman  who  has  all  her  life  hungered 
for  affection  and  never  found  it— in  father — in  husband 
— in  any  one!  Some  day  you'll  know  \-some  day  !  some 
— day  !  " 

The  last  of  this  is  uttered  as  if  it  were  the  sigh  of  a 
breaking  heart.  Her  suffering  makes  him  forget  his  own. 
He -does  not  look  at  her,  for  fear  she  will  see  sympathy 
and  mistake  it  for  love.  Giving  one  quick  glance  at  him, 
and  noting  this,  Lady  Annerley  sinks  into  a  chair  and 
hides  her  head  in  her  hands,  which  tremble  and  shake  as 
if  she  had  the  ague. 

Upon  their  silence  breaks  Miss  Potter's  voice,  coming 
in  through  the  parlor  door.  It  says,  in  cutting  tones  : 
"  Lubbins,  it  is  unnecessary  to  say  Lady  Annerley  is  not 
at  home.  I  heard  her  voice  distinctly." 

This  diversion  is  just  what  her  ladyship  wants.  She 
is  afraid  of  herself— afraid  that  the  suffering  of  the  man 
she  loves  will  overcome  her  resolution.  She  springs  to 
the  door,  opens  it,  and  says  :  "  Please  come  in,  Miss 
Potter  !  " 

Whereupon  Ida  enters,  light,  brilliant,  carefully  and 
beautifully  dressed  as  ever,  though  perhaps  she  would 
be  slightly  paler  did  not  excitement  give  her  a  little  addi 
tional  color.  She  is  followed  by  Mr.  Arthur  Lincoln,  who 
looks  much  the  worse  for  the  trouble  of  the  last  few  hours 
and  who  begs  her  to  be  calm. 

Miss  Potter,  however,  is  calm  ;  she  bows  coldly  to  her 
ladyship,  gives  Errol  her  hand,  and  then  says  :  "  Lady 
Annerley,  it  is  reported  in  Boulogne  that  you  are  the 
authority  for  a  statement  that  my  father  is  a  fugitive 
from  justice  !  "  This  is  in  a  freezing  tone,  though  Miss 
Potter's  eyes  have  a  dazzling  sparkle. 

"  Well  !  "  remarks  her  ladyship,  with  equal  coolness, 
for  she  is  afraid  of  nothing  this  day  except  the  suffering 
face  of  the  man  she  loves. 

But  before  she  can  say  more  Charley  Errol  turns  to 
her  with  a  last  pleading  glance  ^  and  mutters:  "  You— 
you  won't  tell  me,  Lady  Sarah  ? " 

She  does  not  look  at  him  but  gasps  :  "  Why  do  you 
torture  me  with  questions  ?  "  Then  venting  her  misery 
upon  Miss  Potter,  she  cries  :  "  Ask  her  /  She  said  she 


27°  MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 

could  give  you  hope  !     Ask  the  daughter  of  the  convict 
who  has  fled." 

"  You  mean  my  father  ? "  says  Ida,  her  eyes  beginning 
to  blaze. 

"Yes!  "  desperately. 
"  I  am  not  the  daughter  of  a  convict  !  " 
"Not  the  daughter  of   a  convict— yet!"    sneers  her 
ladyship. 

"  You  have  no  retraction  to  make  ? " 
"No   retraction— but  plenty  of  proof!     Your  father 
proved  it  himself  by  flying  !  " 

"  Flying  ?  My  father  never  in  his  life  fled  from  any 
thing  !  "  and  Miss  Potter  affects  a  laugh. 

Here  Lady  Annerley  astonishes  her,  for  she  lies  to  her, 
being  in  that  kind  of  a  mood  she  will  stop  at  nothing    She 
says  :  "  I  saw  your  father  fly  for  Paris." 
"  You  saw  him  ? " 

"  Yes  !  The  moment  he  .heard  his  alias  had  been  dis 
closed  by  you— that  you  had  betrayed  and  ruined  him  !  " 
"  But  it  was  you  who  feared  that  revelation  !  "  cries 
Ida,  her  eyes  beginning  to  look  like  old  Potter's  when  he 
arrested  the  detective.  "  Lady  Sarah,  my  father  shall 
return  to  make  you  fear  again.  I  swear  to  you  !  "  And 
wishing  to  avoid  profitless  discussion  the  young  lady 
turns  toward  the  door,  but  Sarah  Annerley  whispers  to 
her  :  "  If  he  does,  I  swear  to  you  I'll  have  your  father  in 
an  English  jail." 

Both  Errol  and  Arthur  start  at  this,  and  Mr.  Lincoln 
says  :  "  Lady  Annerley,  such  words  are  not  warranted 
unless  you  have  certain  proof  !  " 

"  Proof  !  I  have  conviction .' "  returns  her  ladyship, 
whose  eyes  are  now  riveted  upon  Miss  Potter's  wrist. 
"  His  daughter's  wearing  some  of  the  very  plunder  on 
her  arm  !  " 

At  this  Ida  astonishes  the  two  men  even  more  than 
Lady  Annerley,  for  she  comes  back,  light,  airy,  almost 
laughing,  and  says  nonchalantly  :  "  Oh,  you're  referring 
to  my  lucky  coin,  the  marked  sovereign !  "  and  holds  her 
dazzling  wrist  high  in  air,  jingling  the  bauble  in  Lady 
Annerley's  face. 

This  astounds  Lady  Annerley,  but  it  horrifies  the  two 
men,  for  they  recognize  the  bangle  she  displays  as  one 
of  the  marked  coins. 


MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS.  271 

Arthur  gasps  :  "  Ida,  what  does  this  mean  ?  " 

Lady  Sarah  cries :  "  Dare  she  say  who  gave  her  the 
stolen  goods  ? " 

"  Yes,"  answers  Ida  proudly.  "My  father!  my  father! 
do  you  hear  me?  My  father  !  My  father  c".oes  not  deco 
rate  his  daughter  with  baubles  that  will  make  her  blush  ) 
My  father " 

But  Arthur  stops  her  by  saying  with  legal  caution  : 
«  Then  for  your  father's  sake  don't  tell  her  any  more  !  " 

And  Charley  Errol  mutters  with  a  sigh :  "  Miss  Potter, 
I'm  sorry  for  you  !  " 

These  remarks  and  the  way  they  look  at  her  astound 
and  horrify  the  girl ;  she  stands  gazing  at  them  aston 
ished  ;  then  indignation  comes  into  her  eyes  ;  she  pants 
out :  "  Why,  you  all  seem  to  think  my  father  guilty  ! 

And  the  subject  warming  her  blood  and  enthusiasm 
making  her  eyes  blaze  with  trusting  faith,  she  pours  out 
to  them  :  "  I've  known  his  .love  for  twenty  years,  and 
though  every  jury  in  the  world  and  every  judge  on  the 
bench  cried  :  <  Guilty  !  Guilty  !  !  GUILTY  !  !  ! '  I  would 
cry:  '  INNOCENT  ! '  ' 

As  the  other  three  stare  at  the  girl  a  soft  feminine- 
masculine  voice  comes  to  them  and  makes  them  all  turn 
suddenly  about  and  see  Mr.  Van  Cott.  That  young 
gentleman  is  faultlessly  arrayed  and  looks  very  pale  after 
his  "  night  of  it."  He  has  come  quietly  in  past  Lub- 
bins,  who  has  been  too  intent  upon  the  scene  in  my  lady's 
parlor  to  do  his  duty  outside  of  it. 

Mr.  Van  Cott  says:  "Pardon  my  entering  unan 
nounced,  Lady  Annerley,  but  I  feared  Miss  Potter  might 
be  anxious,  and  came  to  tell  her  that  story  of  her  father's 
flying  to  escape  arrest  is  all  beastly  rot."  ^ 

"  Not  fled  !  "  cries  her  ladyship. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  he's  gone  safe  enough,  but  he  didn  t  fly 
from  the  law.  He  fled  from " 

"  What  ? "  says  Ida. 
"  From  me  !  " 

"  From  you  ?  '*  gasps  the  girl,  amazed,  as  indeed  so  are 
all  the  rest. 

"  Yas;  I  and  your  father  had  an  interview  about  you, 
Miss  Ida  ;  you  know  the  reason  ! "  Here  he  gives  her  a 
significant  ogle  that  makes  the  young  lady  struggle  be 
tween  rage  and  a  smile,  "  Your  father  was  insolent  to 


272  'MR.    POTTER   OF    TEXAS. 

me  and  I  was  compelled  to  threaten  to  chastise  him-, 
and  fearing  me  —  for  my  manner  was  very  determined— 
he  has  doubtless  fled.  But  you  can  tell  him  he  may  re< 
turn  ;  I  won't  hurt  him,  for  your  sake  !  " 

He  puts  another  ogle  to  the  end  of  this,  but  Miss  Pot- 
ter  does  not  see  him  ;  she  is  looking  behind  him  with  a 
flood  of  joy  in  her  eyes,  and  crying  :  "  My  father  !  " 
For  a  voice  outside  is  saying  :  u  This  way,  Peer  !  " 
Then  she  runs  to  the  door  sobbing  "  At  last  !  " 
For  the  strain  being  over  something  has  given  way  in 
this  tortured  heart  that  has  flaunted  her  father's  banner  of 
innocence  so  jauntily  in  all  the  uncertainty  and  anguish 
of  the  last  twelve  hours,  and  Miss  Potter,  who  carried 
herself  so  airily  with  her  father  fled,  is  now  panting  and 
crying  on  her  father's  breast,  who  is  here  to  fi^ht  his 
own  battles. 

Old  Potter,  however,  does  not  kiss  her  ;  he  simply  pats 
her  shoulder  in  a  soothing  kind  of  way,  and  looking  at 
Lady  Annerley,  says  sternly  :  "  Ida,  who's  been  making 
you  cry  ?  " 

"  Father,  that  woman  says  that  you  are  a  thief  !  "  whis 
pers  his  daughter. 

"  Hida  Potter  !  "  returns  her  father  solemnly,  putting 
her  from  him,  and  looking  her  in  the  face,  "did  you  be 
lieve  her  ?" 
"No  !" 

"  Then  kiss  your  daddy  !  "  Which  this  goddess  of 
fashion  does  to  the  old  frontiersman  as  if  it  were  a  boon 
most  precious. 

Then  he  hands  his  daughter  to  Lord  Lincoln,  who  has 
come  in  with  him.  This  gentleman,  assisted  by  his  son, 
comforts  and  soothes  her,  for  the  girl  is  almost  hysterical 
now.  While  Mr.  Potter  walks  up  to  Lady  Annerley—  who 
since  his  ^  entrance  has  become  like  a  marble  statue— 
with  blazing  eyes,  that  now  and  then  involuntarily  turn 
toward  Charley  Errol,  as  he  looks  on  silent  and  aston 
ished. 

"  Lady  Hannerley,"  says  Potter,  "  did  you  dare  to  tell 
that  gal  her  daddy  was  a  habsconder  and  a  thief?" 

"Certainly  !  "  replies  her  ladyship,  coolly,  though  there 
is  a  little  tremor  in  her  voice. 


. 

^  either  you  or  Hi  kicks  the  beam  this  trip,  and 
I  reckon  it's  you  !  "  answers  Mr.  Potter,  and  turns  toward 


MR,    POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  173 

Lord  Lincoln,  muttering  apologetically  :  "  Peer,  it's  the 
second  time  in  my  life  I  ever  threatened  a  woman  !  " 

"  And  it  shall  be  the  last !  "  replies  Lady  Annerley, 
who  will  now  destroy  this  man  who  can  tell  her  secretf 
whether  they  believe  him  or  not.  "For  when  you 
leave  this  room  you  shall  be  a  prisoner ! "  Then  she 
adds  sneeringly  :  "  You  boy  felon  ! "  and  walking  across 
the  room,  touches  a  bell. 

On  which  Ida  screams  out  :  "  You  sha'n  t  call  my 
father  that !  "  and  comes  toward  her,  but  the  Texan  says 
sharply  :  «'  Your  dad  can  do  his  own  fighting !  Lady 
Sahara,  you're  making  me  feel  just  like  a  Comanche  In 
jun  !" 

Here  Lubbins  comes  in,  and  Lady  Annerley  sneers  : 
"  When  Sergeant  Brackett  returns  tell  him  that  the  felon 
for  whom  he  has  a  warrant  is  here." 

At  the  mention  of  the  detective's  name,  Potter  goes 
into  such  an  awful  scream  of  laughter  that  he  gives  them 
all  a  start,  and  a  second  after  a  sensation. 

He  cries  :  "  Is  that  your  proclamation  ?  I  would  have 
let  you  come  down  easy  off  your  roost,  but  you  won't 
have  it  !  Charles  Errol,  I've  something  for  you  !  "  and 
placing  his  hand  in  his  breast  pocket,  draws  out  a  docu 
ment.  The  minute  the  Australian's  eyes  fall  upon  it 
he  cries  hoarsely  :  "  My  God!  The  packet  she  gave  me  in 
Egypt,  and  stole  from  me  when  I  was  wounded  I "  and 
would  seize  it. 

But  Ladv  Annerley  is  between  them,  begging,  beseech- 
ing,  imploring  :  "  Remember  your  promise  !  Charley, 
in  mercy — in  pity  to  the  woman  who  loves  you — remem 
ber  your  promise :  '  If  we  both  lived  you  would  give  it 
back  to  me  !  " 

"  A  promise  ?  Then  I'll  keep  the  thing  myself  !  mut 
ters  Potter,  putting  the  paper  back  in  his  bosom. 

But  Errol  cries  to  him :  "  It  is  mine  !     It  holds  my 

father's  honor ! " 

"And  it  holds  mine  also!  "returns  Potter.  '  I  ve  ad  an 
awful  time  to  git  it,  and  I'll  protect  it  with  my  life,  and 
open  it,  and  read  it  aloud  to  you,  and  the  judge— beg 
pardon,  Peer— and  the  man  who  stays  me  is  a  very  dead 
man  I " 

And  taking  the  packet  from  his  pocket  again,  quite 
slowly,  is  about  to  tear  it  open,  when  Lady  Annerley  f 

tft  "       " 


*74  MR.   POTTER    OF  TEXAS. 

arms  are  clutched  round  his,  and  she  sobs,  though  her 
eyes  have  no  tears  :  "  In  mercy  !  The  man  I  love  would 
think  me  worse  than  I  am.  Give  me  that  packet  back, 
and  I'll  tell  him— all ! — and  the  truth — but  in  my  own 
way — as—as — my  heart  is  breaking  now !  " 

"  That's  fair  !  "  says  Potter,  with  almost  a  sigh  of  re 
lief. 

Then  she  droops  her  head,  and  murmurs  :  "  Send  them 
all  away." 


young 

Arthur  and  Ida  from  the  room,  little  Van  Cott  having 
grown  very  pale,  and  quietly  and  silently  stolen  away  as 
soon  as  Mr.  Potter  came  in. 

Then  he  whispers  hurriedly  to  Lord  Lincoln :  "  You 
told  me  as  we  came  here  you  could  take  a  deposition 
good  in  England.  Write  what  she  says  down,  for  the 
Lord's  sake  ! " 

Sitting  at  a  table  at  the  back  of  the  room,  Percy  Lin 
coln  writes  hurriedly  the  words  that  now  pass  from  the 
woman  to  the  man  who  has  been  gazing  in  silence  at  her. 

After  a  gasp  or  two — for  her  lips  though  they  open 
give  forth  no  sound — Sarah  Annerley  forces  them  to  do 
their  office,  though  her  voice  seems  to  have  changed  and 
become  harsh  and  discordant  since  she  last  spoke.  And 
these  are  the  words  she  utters  : 

"  I — I  stood  by  my  father,  Sir  Jonas  Stevens',  deathbed, 
and  listened  to  the  confession  of  a  dying  thief !" 

On  this  there  is  a  start  from  two  of  the  men. 

Errol  cries  in  an  amazed  voice  :  "  Your  father  !  my 
father's  friend  ? " 

Lincoln  springs  from  his  seat  murmuring :  "  Are 
you  sane  ?  Your  father — Sir  Jonas  Stevens— the  great 
financier,  the  respected  banker !  " 

But  she  cries  at  him  :  "  Don't  interrupt  me !  you 
distract  his  attention  !  If  he  doesn't  listen  to  me,  how  will 
he  ever  forgive  ? "  and  gazes  once  more  at  Errol  as  if  to 
drive  her  words  home  to  his  heart. 

While  Potter  whispers  to  the  judge  :  "  For  all  our  sakes, 
don't  do  anything  but  write  her  words  on  paper." 

She  begins  to  speak  again,  punctuating  her  reveaiingf 
with  tearless  sobs. 


MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  «75 

"  My  father  swore  to  me  that  while  a  young  man  he 
had  stolen  from  the  bank  he  was  yet  a  clerk  in  a  num 
ber  of  sums  of  money.  The  bank  was  determined  to 
find  the  culprit.  For  his  own  safety  he  suggested  that 
certain  sovereigns  be  marked  so  that  if  stolen  they  could 
be  identified,  knowing  that  Ralph  Errol  was  secretly  going 
to  Australia.  On  the  morning  of  his  departure  he  was 
about  to  place  them  all  in  Errol's  desk  in  lieu  of  the  sav 
ings  your  father,  Charley,  was  to  carry  with  him.  He  had 
not  completed  this  when  he  was  seen  by  the  office  boy, 
to  whom  he  gave  thirty  of  the  coins  so  as  to  aid  him  to 
emigrate  to  America.  That  boy,  Samuel  Potts,  took  them 
innocently  as  a  loan  from  my  father,  whom  years  after 
ward  he  repaid.  That  was  my  father's  crime!1' 

To  this  Errol  says  nothing.  His  eyes  have  a  far  away 
look  and  are  full  of  tears,  his  lips  are  trembling ;  he  is 
thinking  of  his  father's  years  of  miserable  shame  and 
cruel  punishment.  He  doesn't  seem  to  hear  her. 

Then  she  mutters  hoarsely :  "  You  know  the  truth 
now  !  Give  me  the  packet !  "  and  turns  to  take  it  from 
Potter's  hands. 

But  he  whispers  to  Lincoln  :  "  Swear  her  to  it,  judge  ! 
Swear  her  to  it  on  the  Bible,  for  the  Lord's  sake  ! " 

The  Texan's  manner  impresses  the  judge,  who  hands 
her  the  statement  he  has  written  out  and  says  :  "  Lady 
Annerley,  sign  your  name  to  this." 

And  she  doing  as  he  asks,  he  takes  her  oath  that  it  is 
true. 

Then  she  mutters  again  :    "  Give  me  that  packet ! 
which  Potter  does  with  a  triumphant  chuckle  which  she 
does  not  heed,  for  she  cries  to  Errol :  "  Now  LISTEN  TO 

MY    EXPIATION  ! 

"  On  my  father's  death  I  immediately  telegraphed,  and 
found  that  you  were  in  Egypt  en  route  to  Australia. 
Disregarding  the  warnings  of  my  friends  and  my  own 
safety  I  hurried  to  Alexandria.  There  I  waited— after  all 
had  fled — endangering  my  own  life  to  do  you  justice  ! 
You  remember  I  tried  to  tell  you,  but  you  wouldn't 
listen,  you  were  thinking  how  to  save  my  life.  Ah,  how 
you  did  save  !  How  you  fought  for  me  !  Can't  you  re 
member?  Charley,  my  Charley,  can't  you  remember? 
My  God  !  How  nobly  you  fought  for  me  and  made  me 
love  y out" 


MR.   POTTER  OF   TEXAS. 


Seeing  he  makes  her  no  answer,  she  goes  to  him  in  a  pit- 

us^  begging,  pleading  way,  and  touching  his  arm,  trem 
bles  in  fear  of  a  repulse,  and  says  humbly,  in  one  long, 
sighing  whisper  :  "  Charley—  can't—  you—  remember  ?  " 

Her  manner  and  despair  make  tears  come  into  the  eyes 
of  the  judge  who  has  sentenced  fellow-men  to  death, 
and  the  frontier  warrior  who  has  butchered  his  foes  with 
out  sorrow  or  remorse. 

But  Errol  simply  says,  not  looking  at  her  :  «  I  did  my 
duty  !  How  have  you  done  yours  ?  "  Then  gazes  at  her 
sternly,  for  she  does  not  answer  the  terrible  accusation, 
and  cries  :  "  How  have  you  done  yours  ?  " 

And  now  the  scene  becomes  cruel,  for  she  shrieks  out 
at  him:  "My  God!  Don't  look  at  me  in  that  way! 
Have  some  pity  !  How  could  I  tell  the  man  I  had  grown 
to  love  better  than  my  life  that  my  father  had  made  his 
father  an  outcast  and  a  felon  for  over  thirty  years  ?  You 
would  have  despised  me  for  my  father's  crime,  and  hated 
me—  as  you  do  now!  Don't  think  me  all  bad.  I  did  the 
other  sins  when  jealousy  drove  me  mad.  My  Heaven  ! 
He  don't  even  believe!  " 

This  last  she  screams  in  a  kind  of  despairing  appeal  to 
the  world.  Then  seizing  Errol  and  forcing  him  to  look  at 
her  agony  she  whispers  :  "  I  intended  to  tell  you  the 
awful  story  at  the  first,  but  I'll  prove  that  to  you.  That 
you  shall  know.  That  you  shall  believe  by  this  !  This, 
that  I  had  meant  for  you  to  read  if  they  killed  me  in 
Alexandria.  This,  that  none  but  you  shall  ever  see,  for 
it  tells  of—of  how  much  I  adored  you  then—  the  first, 
the  only  love  letter  I  shall  ever  write  —  THIS  !  " 

And  she  tears  open  the  packet  Potter  had  given  her, 
and  is  about  to  hand  it  to  Errol  ;  but  gazing  at  it  her 
face  changes  from  awful  despair  to  amazed  astonish 
ment.  She  gasps  :  "  He  would  never  have  known  if  I 
had  not  confessed  ;  now  he'll  never  believe  all  !  "  Here 
the  passion  of  a  tigress  comes  upon  her  ;  she  screams, 
"  Tricked  at  the  last  !  Betrayed  by  you  !  "  then,  stagger 
ing  toward  the  Texan,  utters  an  awful  choking  shriek 
and  falls  like  a  dead  woman  at  his  feet,  the  pages  of 
the  open  packet  scattering  about  her  senseless  form. 

Picking  one  of  these  up,  Lincoln  says  astounded  - 
"  Why,  they're  blank  !  " 

"  Yes  !  "  remarks  Potter.     "  Ye  see,  judge  —  I  beg  your 


MR.    POTTER   OF   TEXAS.  2?7 


pardon,  Peer—I  couldn't  get  enough  of  the  fragments  to 
make  sense.  Her  emissary  had  destroyed  the  document, 
though  he'd  left  the  wrapper  whole,  and  so  I  tricked  her 
and  busted  the  slate  !  "  and  stooping  down  would  pick 
Lady  Annerley  up. 

But  Errol  is  before  him  and  lifts  her  very  tenderly, 
for  the  memories  of  Africa  are  back  in  his  heart  as  he 
looks  upon  this  woman  who  has  sinned  so  against  him, 
and  mutters,  "  Poor  devil !  "  So,  placing  her  inanimate 
form  upon  the  sofa,  he  gives  this  woman  who  has  broken 
her  heart  over  him  his  first  and  his  last  embrace. 

Lady  Annerley's  shrieks  have  drawn  Arthur  and  the 
rest  to  the  door,  and  Mr.  Potter,  calling  his  daughter  to 
him,  says  :  "  She  was  once  kind  to  you,  Ida  ;  give  my 
lady  .what  care  you  can.  Thar's  been  a  funeral  of  a 
heart  in  this  room." 

Going  to  her,  Miss  Potter  cries  out :  (  How  she 
must  have  suffered  !  She's  grown  old  since^I  saw  her 
last.  Father,  what  have  you  all  done  to  her  ? " 

"  No  more  than  justice  demanded,"  returns  the  old 
man.  "  Quit  moralizing,  and  bring  her  to  !  " 

So  with  the  American  girl's  kind  arms  about  her  Lady 
Annerley  is  borne  out  of  the  room,  punished  by  the 
fact  that  she  never  knows  the  man  she  has  wronged  and 
loved  forgave  her. 

While  this  is  being  done  the  men  hold  a  hurried  con 
sultation,  Lord  Lincoln  telling  them  that  his  resignation 
from  the  bench  not  being  as  yet  accepted,  and  no  suc 
cessor  to  the  office  having  been  appointed,  Lady  Anner 
ley's  affidavit  taken  by  him  will  be  sufficiently  binding  to*- 
the  purpose  he  shall  use  it,  that  is,  to  quash  the  indictment 
against  Samuel  Potts,  and  to  make  such  representations 
to  the  Home  Secretary  as  shall  obtain  the  Queen  s  free 
pardon  for  Ralph  Errol,  and  so  much  reparation  as  it  is 
possible  to  make  for  the  stigma  placed  for  over  thirty  years 
on  an  'nnocent  man. 

In  conclusion  Lord  Lincoln  says:  "The  judge  who 
sentenced  your  father  shall  be  the  first  to  call  upon  him 
and  offer  him  his  sympathy  and  apologies.  And  as  for 
any  injustice  or  wrong  done  to  you  by  any  of  my  family, 
I  can  make  an  atonement  that  you,  at  least,  Mr.  Errol, 
should  think  sufficient ;  for  my  daughter,  who  has  been 
the  joy  of  my  life,  will  now,  I  presume,  become  the  b*ess 


27  MR.    POTTER    OF    TEXAS. 

ing  of  yours.  You've  been  a  good  son,  and  that  is  *he 
best  guarantee  you'll  be  a  good  husband.  Come,  let  us 
go  to  your  father  !  " 

Then  Lord  Lincoln  puts  his  arm  ov^er  Charley  Errol's 
shoulder. 

But  Potter  stops  him  by  saying :  "  Peer,  I  shar'n't  go 
back  to  England  till  you  get  that  ar  indictment  squashed  ! 
I  don  t  want  to  be  arrested,  and  I'll  take  my  darter  and 
have  a  qukt  time  in  PanV." 

At  this  Miss  Potter  comes  running  to  her  father,  and 
says  :  «  Of  course  I'll  go  with  you  !  Dear  papa,  I'll  never 

leave  you  till 

^  Here  the  Honorable  Sampson  makes  Arthur  and  the 
girl  blush,  for  he  cries  :  "  Till  the  weddin'  !  We'll  get 
the  trousseau  in  PanV.  PanV  is  the  place  for  trousseaus  [ 
Peer,  you'd  better  send  that  little  darter  of  yours  alone 
with  us  !  " 

But  Errol  here  mutters  to  Lord  Lincoln  :  «  Think  of 
my  father — of  his  uncertainty — his  agony  !  Come  !  we 
must  tell  him  at  once." 

And  the  two  are  about  to  leave  together  ;  but  on  get 
ting  to  the  door  the  judge  suddenly  pauses,  and  turning 
to  the  Texan,  who  stands  with  his  daughter's  arm  around 
him,  says  :  "  You'll  excuse  my  asking  you  a  lawyer's  ques 
tion,  but  how  and  why  did  you  change  your  name  ?  " 

"How?"  returns  Potter  proudly.  "By  act  of  the 
Texas  Legislature  !  Why  ?  Because  the  Democratic 
Party  thought  Sampson  Potter  a  more  high-toned  name 
to  run  for  Congress  than  Sammy  Potts.  That's  what 
makes  me  Mr.  Potter  of  Texas." 


Sir  Guy  Chester 


OR 


The  First  of  the  English 

A  NOVEL 

Showing  how,  years  ago,  England  handled  the  question 
of  Spanish  barbarity  in  a  neighboring  province,  similar 
to  the  Cuban  one  that  the  United  States  has  solved 
to-day. 

— BY — 

Archibald  Clavering  Qunter 

AUTHOR  OF 
MR.  BARNES  OF  NEW  YORK,  ETC.  ETC. 


"  One  of  his  cleverest  stories." — Brooklyn  Eagle, March  a, z8g^. 

"  A    vivid   and   dashing   sort  of  historical  romance." — San 
Francisco  Chronicle,  March  77,  1895. 

"  Always  true  to  his  historical  atmosphere." — Syracuse  Post, 
March  u,  1895. 

54  As  interesting  as  his  former  works."—  The  Argus,  Albany 

N.  Y. 

11  The  story  shows  evidence  of  careful  research  and  historic 
Accuracy." — Newark  Daily  Advertiser. 


THE  HOME  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

3   East   Fourteenth   Street 
NEW  YORK 


Sfcmnne  be  $ortalt0 

h 

ARCHIBALD  CLAVERJNG  GUNTER 

"Rattling  good  reading. "— Ma*  and  Express,  BVw  York. 


"As  full  of  action  as  an  egg  is  full  of  meat,  and  ye*  its  action  is  as  natural  and  well 
sustained  as  it  is  spirited  and  exciting.' ' — N*w  York  World. 


"Mr.  Gunter's  latest  story  of  love  and  adventure  opens  in  Paris  amid  the  wild 
trcenes  of  the  Revolution  of  1848.  *  *  *  The  graphic  pictures  of  this  historic  epoch 
are  vividly  drawn.  *  *  *  The  story  will  be  welcomed  by  those  who  enjoy  an  exciting 
romance.  — Home  Journal,  New  York. 


"We  have  a  curious  insight  into  the  methods  of  Italian  schools  of  singing  and  danc 
ing,  ana  a  very  thrilling  account  of  the  secret  service  systems  of  France  and  Austria, 
as  well  as  of  an  Italian  revolution." — Times-Star,  Cincinnati. 


"It  contain!  H  most  ingenious  and  striking  plot,  worked  out  with  great  accuracy  of 
detail.  It  is  filled  with  an  inspiring  elan — ;and  enthusiasm.  If  you  open  it  you  will  for 
get  that  time  flies  and  a  six  hours  railway  journey  will  seem  to  you  like  so  many  happy 
minutes.  But  this  is  peculiar  to  all  of  Mr.  Guntef's  celebratedjbooln." — Phillipsburg 
Journal.  

"The  story  is  cleverly  told  and  deals  with  the  incidents  coincident  vith  the  French 
revolution  of  1848,  which  saw  the  downfall  of  Louis  Philippe.  A  young  French  woman, 
Adrienne,  escapes  from  Paris,  and  the  scenes  are  shifted  to  Italy  where  under  an  assumed 
tame  her  life  is  filled  with  adventures,  love  and  intrigue.  The  story  i*  by  no  means 
oensational,  though  told  in  that  clear  style  for  which  Gunter  is  noted  " — The  Call, 
Philadelphia,  Pa 


"Will  add  materially  to  the  popular  favor  with  which  the  previous  books  of  Archi- 
08 71  Clavering  Gunter,  such  as  'Mr.  Barnes  ot  New  York'  and  other  tales  have  bewn 
received.  The  stirring  days  of  the  revolution  in  France  (1848)  when  the  hours  of  Louis 
Philippe  the  republican  king,  were  numbered,  makes  a  striking  background  for  th» 
beginning,  and  an  Austro-Italian  intrigue  makes  good  scenery  for  the  main  part  of  the 
story,  dealing  with  the  escape  and  hounding  by  French  officers  of  the  lovely  fugitive, 
her  metamorphosis,  her  capture  of  the  tenor  patriot  Da  Messina,  her  heroically  dramatic 
leadership  of  the  Milan  revolt,  her  narrow  escape  from  death,  and  an  exceedingly  pretty 
ending  to  it  all,  which  must  be  read  to  be  at  all  appreciated. —The  Boston  Globe. 

Cloth,  $1.50  Paper,  50  Cent* 

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A  Novel  of  Startling  Interest 

in  the  complications  which  have  lately  arisen  in    the 
Far  East  between 


RUSSIA  AND  JAPAN 

"Tangled  Flag's" 

By  ARCHIBALD  CLAVERING  GUNTER 

The  hero  of  the  story  is  a  Japanese  officer  educated 
at  West  Point  and  purchasing  artillery  for  his  govern 
ment  from  an  American  Connecticut  arms  manufactory. 
His  views  on  Russian  aggression  are  typical  of  the  ideas 
of  his  country. 

No  novel  in  recent  years  has  had  a  larger  sale 

"A  rattling  romance." — New  Tork  Herald. 

"Mr.  Gunter  will  retain  his  public  as  long  as  he  turns  out  such  books  as 
'Tangled  Flags.'  " — Neiv  York  Mail  and  Express. 

"  'Tangled  Flags'  is  a  book  well  worthy  to  begin  the  literature  of  the  new 
century.  Osuri  Katsuma  stands  forth  as  strongly  as  any  of  Dumas's  heroes." 
—  The  Literary  News. 

"While  the  flags  of  the  nations  are  becoming  entangled  in  Peking,  it  is 
small  wonder  that  these  people,  so  diverse  in  character  and  training  and  purpose, 
should  entangle  their  fortunes  and  affairs.  But  few  living  novelists  have  the 
genius  and  the  personal  acquaintance  with  the  scenes  and  events  that  will  help 
to  weave  them  into  such  a  satisfactory  romance  as  'Tangled  Flags.'  " — 
Bookseller,  Newsdealer  and  Stationer. 

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A  PRINCESS  OF  FARIS 

BY 

ARCHIBALD  CLAVERING  GUNTER 

"  This  story  is  one  of  Mr.  Gunter's  best,  and  those  who 
kave  read  *  Mr.  Barnes  of  New  York'  and  'Mr.  Potter  of 
Texas'  know  the  full  meaning  of  this  statement."— Loyal  Amer 
ican  >  Minneapolis. 

"'The  Princess  of  Paris' is  decidedly  the  best  thing  that 
Mr.  Gunter  has  done  in  way  of  giving  him  a  distinctive  place 
among  authors  of  to-day.  It  introduces  a  good  deal  of  history 
connected  with  the  reign  of  Louis  Phillipe,  the  great  Louisiana 
bubble,  and  the  beginnings  of  modern  banking  methods,  one 
of  the  most  interesting  epochs  in  the  history  of  France.  This 
adds  to  the  charm  and  value  of  the  book.  Altogether,  '  The 
Princess  of  Paris'  reminds  one  strongly  of  the  writings  of  the 
great  master  of  romance — Dumas,  the  elder — and  in  point  of 
interest  it  is  exceeded  by  nothing  which  the  renowned  French 
man  ever  wrote." — Rochester  Courier. 

Cloth,  $1.50  Paper,  50  Cents 


THE   KING'S  STOCKBROKER 

THE   SEQUEL  TO 

A    PRINCESS    OF    PARIS 

"  Full  of  exciting  incident  and  dramatic  situations." — New 
Orleans  Picayune. 

"  The  work  is  clean,  wonderfully  well  written  and  an  ex 
ceedingly  dramatic  bit  of  literature." — Forte  Wayne  News. 

Cloth,  $1.50  Paper,  50  Cents 


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price,  by 

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$  EAST  FOURTEENTH  STREET,  NEW  YORK 


OPINIONS    OF 
THE    GREAT    NOVEL, 


Mr.  Barnes 


of  New  York. 


ENGLAND. 

There  is  no  reason  for  surprise  at  'Mr.  Barnes1 
a  big  hit?—  The  Referee,  London,  March  25th. 

"Exciting  and  interesting."—  The  Graphic, 

"'  Marina  Paoli'—  -a  giant  character-—  just  as  strong 

as  '  Fedora,'  "—Illustrated  London  News* 

"A   capital   story—most   people   have  read  it  —  I 

recommend  it  to  all  the  others.9* 

—JAMES  PAYNE  in  Illustrated  London  Nms 


*  'fold  with  the  genius  of  Alexander  Dumas,  the 
Elder."—  Amusement  Gazette. 

w  Have  you  read  "  MR.  BARNES  OP  NEW  YORK  ?  '  II 
no,  go  and  read  it  at  once,  and  thank  me  for  suggesting 
it  I  want  to  be  put  on  record  as  saying  *  it  is 

the  best  story  of  the  day—  the  best  I  have  read  in  ten 
years/  el  —  JOE  HOWARD  in  Boston  Globe. 

But  at  that  time  Mr.  Howard  had 
not  read 

"Mr  Potter  of 


NOW  READY 

FIFTH   EDITION  OP 

SUSAN  TURNBULl 

ALSO  FOURTH   EDITION  OF 

BALLY HO  BEY 

(THE  SEQUEL  TO  SUSAN  TURNBULL) 
BY 

Archibald   Clavering  Gunter 

AUTHOR   OF 

••Mr.  Barnes  of  New  York,*'  etc. 


In  presenting  these  two  novels,  we  feel  assured  that  no 
stories  of  greater  interest  have  ever  been  offered  to  those  who 
read,  not  only  for  a  strong  story  of  the  passions  told  with  vigor, 
virility,  and  tenderness,  but  also  for  the  charming  episodes  of 
manners  and  men  of  a  most  curious  age.  The  canvas  on  which 
Mr.  Gunter  paints  his  vivid  pen  pictures  is  too  large  to  permit 
of  any  synopsis  that  would  do  justice  to  these  books.  They 
contain, however, besides  a  remarkable  love  story,  many  thrilling 
episodes  dealing  with  the  first  uprising  in  Greece,  against  the 
Turks,  in  1770  ;  a  most  charming  picture  of  Havana  when  Spain 
received  it  from  England  ;  a  view  of  Colonial  life  in  Florida 
and  the  West  Indies  in  their  glory.  All  these  are  interspersed 
by  realistic  descriptions  of  London  modes,  fashions,  and  frivol 
ities,  at  the  time  when  the  lovely  Miss  Gunnings  were  the  tall 
of  that  great  city,  when  Walpole,  Selwyn,  and  Sheridan  wen 
ihe  wits  and  the  elder  Pitt  and  Robert,  Lord  Clive.  the  grea 
stars  in  its  political  firmament. 


PRICE   PER    VOLUME 

Cloth,  Gilt  Top,  $1.50  Paper,  50  Cents 

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BOB    COVINGTON 

A  NOVEL 
BY 

ARCHIBALD  CLAVERINO  GUNTER 

«  Of  intense  interest."— St.  Laws  Sim 

"Tbera  is  not  a  dull  line  between  the  covers." 

— Bt.  Louis  Pott-Despatek 

"Better  than  'Mr.  Barnes  of 
New  York.'" 


Cloth,  $1.50  Paper,  50  Cents 

Sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 

fHE  HOME  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

s  EAST  14TH  STREET 
YOB* 


Out 


The  Surprises 

of  an 

Empty  Hotel 

BY  ARCHIBALD  CLAVERING  GUNTER 

THIS  most  unique  story  contains  the  interest 
of  an  almost  unsolvable  situation,  is 
brilliantly  adorned  with  wit  and  humor  and  in 
addition  has,  like  all  of  Mr.  Gunter's  books,  a 
peculiar  and  absorbing  personal  interest  in  both 
its  characters  and  events. 

It  is  divided  into  five  episodes: 
THE  EMPTY  HOSTELRY 
A  STRANGE  LADY 

A  FRENCH  LAWYER 

THE  SURRENDER  OF  A  WOMAN 
AN  ELOPEMENT  IN  A  LOCOMOBILE 

And  is  elaborately  illustrated  by  a  number  of 
double  page  pictures  by  Archie  Gunn  and  W.  B. 
Davidson. 

Cloth,  1.50  Paper,  .50  Cents 

At   ail  booksellers   or  sent  postpaid  on  receipt  oj 
price  by 

THE  HOME  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 
3  East  Fourteenth  Street,  New  York 


Have  You  Read 

•••  1  HE»«. 

Fighting  Troubadour 

By 

ARCHIBALD  CLAVERINQ  QUNTER 


AUTHOR  OF 

"Mr.  Barnes  of  New  York,"  "A  Princess  of  Pans," 
"M.  S.  Bradford,  Special"  etc.,  etc. 

THIS    NOVKI*  IS    DI  VIDKD    IKTO   FOUR 
KI»ISOHES: 


Book  I.—  THE  GIFT  OF  THE  BATTLE-FIELD 
Book  II.—  THE  PRINCESS  MARIA 
Book  III.—  THE  SINGING  GIRL  OF  CREMONA 
Book  IV.—  A  WILD  NIGHT  IN  MIRANDOLA 

It  ends  with  probably  the  most  extraordinary  and 
powerful  climax  ever  put  in  the  pages  of  a  book  or  on 
the  stage  of  a  theatre. 

The  time  of  the  story  is  the  same  as  Mr.  Gunter 
treated  in  "  The  Princess  of  Paris  "  and  "The  King's 
Stockbroker,"  two  books  which  have  probably  been  as 
successful  as  any  historical  novels  ever  written,  the 
first  sales  of  them  being  over  1  70,000  copies  in  America 
fid  Canada,  exclusive  of  the  English  editions. 


Cloth,  $1.50  Paper,  50  Cents 

SENT  PREPAID  ON  RECEIPT  OP  PRICE  BY 

THE  HOME  PUBLISHING   COflPANY 

3    East    Fourteenth    Street,    New    York 


ANOTHER  GREAT  SUCCESS. 

Miss  Nobody 
of  Nowhere. 

BY 

ARCHIBALD  C.  GUNTER. 


*  Full  of  incident  and  excitement."  —  New  York  Herald* 

"The  popularity  of  Mr.  GuuUi*  will  now  be  greater 
than  ever/'  —  Tacoma  Globe. 

"  A  story  that  will  keep  a  man  away 
from  his  meals."  —  Omaha 


"  There  is  not  a  dull  page  in  this  volun-e..** 

—Daily  Chronicle,  London,  Jan.  14,  1891, 

;*  Gunter  scores  another  success." 

—  Morning  Advertiser,  London,  Dec   *6,  1890, 

*  Well  worth  reading." 

—  Galignani,  Paris,  Nov.  34,  1890 

"Nothing  could  exceed  its  thrilling  interest." 

—  Glasgow  Herald,  Erec.  25,  1890^ 

"Gunter's  latest  remarkable  story  will  not  disappoint 
kis  numerous  adnrrers." 

—  Newcastle  Chronicle,  Dec,  4, 


LD21 


_1OOm-7,'52(A2528sl6)476 


YB  73907 


M151434 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


Archibald    Clavering    Gunter's 

NEW  NOFEL 

PHIL  CONWAY 

THIS    extraordinary   story    of   -how    a    trip     to    Central 
America    nearly   ruined   the  happiness  of"  one    of  New 
York's  great  speculators  and  financiers  equals  in  interest 
the  famous  novel  "Ma.  BARNES  OF  NEW  YORK,"  by  the  same 
author,   and  consequently   will   have    the    same  unprecedented 
number  of  readers. 

The  follow'ng  partial  li:,'  of  chaptets  wij!    convey  in  part, 
the  scope  and  interest  of  this  most  dramar'c  novel  : 

IN  A  BACHELOR'S  APARTMENT  HOUSE 

THE  REVELATION  OF  THE  PARROT'S  CAGE 
THE  B^OKE*:  SCISSORS 

THE  LADY  AT  THE  HOTEL  WINDOW 
THE  WIFE  or  THE  REFUGEE 

THE  TELEGRAM  SEVT  FROM  COBAN 

THE  DAUGHTKI  OF  THE  FUGITIVE 

ON  THE  DECK  OF  THE  NEW  ORLEANS  BOAT 
THE  LITTLE  FLAT  IN  FIFTY-CU.HTH  STREET 
A  TETE-A-TKTE  MULEBACK  RIDE 

His  MAGNIFICENT  ENEMY 

THE  OPEN  TELEPHONE 
A  LADY  VISITS  THE  BACHELOR'S  FLAT 
THE  FAIRY  BRIDAL  GIFT 

"BEFORE  THE   Al/TAK    I    BuRY    MY   FATHER'*   WRONGS   '^ 

"HER  LIFE  FIRST,  HIR  LOVE  AFTERWARDS" 
THE  £uRpRists  OF  A  NIGHT 


Clolh.  &1.5O 


'**aper.  5O  cents 


^or  sale  by  all  booksellers  or  sent  prepaid  on  receipt  of  price  /-v 

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3 


KAST  i4'i'H  S'j'.,  NEW    YORK 


